Page 86 of All For You

“No, thank you,” I murmured.

“Coffee or tea?”

“Not for me.”

We were at the top of the outside stairs now.

“Hmm. Now I wonder if you would be interested in seeing the book stack on my bedside table? Or the beautiful view out my bedroom window?”

“I’d be curious to see that book stack of romances. Though…” I tapped my lips. “Can I be sure you’re not tricking me? After the warbler incident, I worry you might not be giving me the whole picture.”

“Woman, you were the one lying about the birds.” He gave an animalistic grunt, swept an arm under my knees, and hoisted me off my feet.

Then he turned backward and bumped us through the double doors and into the entry hall. A uniformed butler passed through.

“Goodnight, Stevens,” Darcy said while on the move.

“Goodnight, sir.” Stevens only betrayed a small hint of surprise.

With me giggling in his arms, Darcy grinned and ran up the circular staircase, up three stories. Once on the third floor, he ran down a hallway to the end and reached to open the door. Still carrying me, he stepped inside and kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.

He set me down in front of the window and took my hand.

“Okay, I stand corrected. You were right. What a beautiful view,” I said, looking out over the walled garden, the orangery, and the forest beyond.

“Yes, it is,” he said, staring at me.

I shook my head and pushed playfully at his chest.

“No, seriously. You are so beautiful.” He pulled one of my ringlets. “Your eyes, your mouth, the way you move. Fuck.” He thrust his hands into my hair. “I love your spirit and independence and the way you throw yourself into things. And for the first time in my life, I feel as if there’s someone I can say anything to.”

“Youcantalk to me about anything,” I said.

“About birds,” he teased.

“I don’t know birds. I love them. Their chatting, their soaring, their ways.”

“What else do you like about them?” he murmured. He kissed my neck, his hard thighs pressing against mine.

“Hmm. I have questions about them, but I don’t necessarily need to know the answers. I wonder whether the hummingbirds get tired of the hovering, like how we tire of exercise, what the sparrows chat about, whether chickens feel sad when their eggs are taken. And I wonder if when they’re flying in those formations, whether they switch around ’cause one of them says, ‘I’d like to be near my friend today.’”

He laughed so hard his arms released me. “That has to be the three-thousandth difference between you and me. While you were saying that, I was thinking…one: nope; two: danger—don’t mess with my spot or with my female; three: nope; and four: maybe, because they do form individual friendships.”

I laughed. “You know a lot of things.”

“I’m a longtime nerd.” He shrugged.A hot nerd. “I know a lot of stuff, but Lizzy, you know a lot more about how to enjoy life.”

“Thank you for saying that,” I said, genuinely touched, and I traced down the buttons on his shirt.

“Can I ask you another question?” he asked.

“Depends.”

He chuckled. “That’s my usual answer. That first day at the lake, why didn’t you call out to me and announce yourself?”

A lifetime ago now. When I was still angry and sad and disappointed in him. “I was embarrassed to be there, and I was planning to sneak away.”

“You could have gotten away without me seeing you. I was in the water for fifteen minutes at least.”