want that intimacy ever again, even as much as she missed it. The thought of losing someone she loved over all the strange happenings in her life tied to Stormclyffe hurt too much.
She shivered, realizing she still wore his coat. She would return it, soon, but not right now. Surely there was nothing wrong with wanting to savor a few more minutes of being enveloped by a coat that bore his woodsy, masculine scent. It was soothing and enticing, like her own personal catnip.
“So, tell me about yourself, Jane. I realized today I know very little of you except for your academic interests, of course.” He slid her glass close to her hand. Their fingers met on the glass’s stem, and neither of them pulled away for a moment. It was Jane who finally broke the contact, and she wished she hadn’t, but she desperately needed a drink. She wasn’t great at small talk. With Tim, everything had been so easy; they’d had so much in common. But Bastian was a stranger, one she felt drawn to in ways she never had felt with Tim. What could she say?
I’m just a girl who had an average, happy life but always felt I belonged somewhere else…belonged…here? It sounded silly, and if she was going to start talking about herself, she needed a few sips of liquid courage. The wine’s bouquet was heady and rich. She thought she tasted a hint of cherry and oak.
“Not much to tell really. I’m from Charleston, South Carolina.”
“Siblings?” he prompted and then took a bite out of his sandwich.
“One brother. Garrett is four years older than me. He can be an idiot at times, but a loveable one.” A little smile curved her lips.
He grinned devilishly. “That explains your instinct to punch my shoulder whenever you’re losing an argument.”
“Oh?” She tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. It was true. She punched Garrett. A lot. He was always bullying her whenever they argued about something, and socking him was the best way to distract him. It was a habit she’d never really outgrown.
“A close friend of mine has a younger brother and sister, and you remind me of them.” The soft smile that played on his lips melted her inside. He seemed genuinely happy at some secret memory from long ago. What she wouldn’t give in that moment to discover a way to keep him smiling like that. It was a beautiful expression on his face, and someone blessed with that nice of a smile should have a reason to always be smiling. Yet, she knew only too well after this afternoon’s research that smiles from Bastian were few and far between and hard-won if they came. There was so little for him to be happy about. It was obvious that wealth and title did not equal happiness. It was one more reason she was curious to know who would bring such fond memories and soft smiles to his lips.
“Who is it?” she couldn’t help but ask. She desperately wanted some insight into his life and his past.
“Rhys Wolfe. You have probably heard of him by his title. Viscount Wolfe. He’s a fellow schoolmate of mine from Eaton and later Cambridge. He’s a good man. His younger brother Owen and his sister Chloe are quite the pair of troublemakers, always have been. They perfected the art of outnumbering and outmaneuvering Rhys at every opportunity, much to the hilarity of us watching whatever scheme they had concocted unfold. Afterward, they would insist it was Rhys’s determination to be the perfect elder brother that inspired such a need to rebel and cause trouble. I sometimes wish—” He caught himself and with a rueful shake of his head, covered his lips with his wineglass, and drank.
She swallowed hard as she resisted the desire to ask the question that would prompt his answer. Perhaps if she changed tactics, she could get him to come back to it.
“What’s it like? Growing up and living in this world?” She gestured to the kitchens.
“Being an earl, you mean?” He laughed softly, but there was no joy in the sound. Only pain.
“Try to
She shivered, realizing she still wore his coat. She would return it, soon, but not right now. Surely there was nothing wrong with wanting to savor a few more minutes of being enveloped by a coat that bore his woodsy, masculine scent. It was soothing and enticing, like her own personal catnip.
“So, tell me about yourself, Jane. I realized today I know very little of you except for your academic interests, of course.” He slid her glass close to her hand. Their fingers met on the glass’s stem, and neither of them pulled away for a moment. It was Jane who finally broke the contact, and she wished she hadn’t, but she desperately needed a drink. She wasn’t great at small talk. With Tim, everything had been so easy; they’d had so much in common. But Bastian was a stranger, one she felt drawn to in ways she never had felt with Tim. What could she say?
I’m just a girl who had an average, happy life but always felt I belonged somewhere else…belonged…here? It sounded silly, and if she was going to start talking about herself, she needed a few sips of liquid courage. The wine’s bouquet was heady and rich. She thought she tasted a hint of cherry and oak.
“Not much to tell really. I’m from Charleston, South Carolina.”
“Siblings?” he prompted and then took a bite out of his sandwich.
“One brother. Garrett is four years older than me. He can be an idiot at times, but a loveable one.” A little smile curved her lips.
He grinned devilishly. “That explains your instinct to punch my shoulder whenever you’re losing an argument.”
“Oh?” She tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help herself. It was true. She punched Garrett. A lot. He was always bullying her whenever they argued about something, and socking him was the best way to distract him. It was a habit she’d never really outgrown.
“A close friend of mine has a younger brother and sister, and you remind me of them.” The soft smile that played on his lips melted her inside. He seemed genuinely happy at some secret memory from long ago. What she wouldn’t give in that moment to discover a way to keep him smiling like that. It was a beautiful expression on his face, and someone blessed with that nice of a smile should have a reason to always be smiling. Yet, she knew only too well after this afternoon’s research that smiles from Bastian were few and far between and hard-won if they came. There was so little for him to be happy about. It was obvious that wealth and title did not equal happiness. It was one more reason she was curious to know who would bring such fond memories and soft smiles to his lips.
“Who is it?” she couldn’t help but ask. She desperately wanted some insight into his life and his past.
“Rhys Wolfe. You have probably heard of him by his title. Viscount Wolfe. He’s a fellow schoolmate of mine from Eaton and later Cambridge. He’s a good man. His younger brother Owen and his sister Chloe are quite the pair of troublemakers, always have been. They perfected the art of outnumbering and outmaneuvering Rhys at every opportunity, much to the hilarity of us watching whatever scheme they had concocted unfold. Afterward, they would insist it was Rhys’s determination to be the perfect elder brother that inspired such a need to rebel and cause trouble. I sometimes wish—” He caught himself and with a rueful shake of his head, covered his lips with his wineglass, and drank.
She swallowed hard as she resisted the desire to ask the question that would prompt his answer. Perhaps if she changed tactics, she could get him to come back to it.
“What’s it like? Growing up and living in this world?” She gestured to the kitchens.
“Being an earl, you mean?” He laughed softly, but there was no joy in the sound. Only pain.
“Try to
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