Page 76 of Wicked By Design

“Not at all, I rather liked it,” she said, setting down her spoon. “Heavens, they were all wonderful, but I feel a little chilled now.”

Damian laughed and got to his feet. “You’d best sit by the fire and thaw out all that ice.”

He helped her up and let her to the sitting area where an elegant settee, comfortably furnished with soft cushions, was arranged close to the fire. Cilly sat down, waiting for him as he returned to the table and refilled their glasses, bringing Cilly’s to her.

“Thank you,” she said as he sat down beside her, noting the space between them.

Sipping her champagne, she watched the flames, enjoying the warmth of the fire.

“I believe I may have found a house for us.”

Cilly turned to look at him in surprise. “Oh?” She set down her glass on a side table, turning to gaze at him fully as he explained. He was staring at the fire as he spoke, twisting the stem of his glass between long, elegant fingers.

“I rode over there a few days ago after hearing about the place from a local. I’d already put word about that I was looking, you see. Of course, you may not like it, but I believe you will be as charmed as I was. It is in Fairlight, a little farther along the coast, up on the cliffs. It’s a rather enchanting place, if too small, but I believe Gideon could help us redesign and enlarge it, if you liked the idea. There are splendid views of the sea, and you would be close to Little Valentine as you like it here so—oof!”

Cilly, quite unable to contain her emotions a moment longer, launched herself at him, jolting his champagne glass so the chilled liquid spattered his shirt sleeve and waistcoat. Cilly pressed her mouth to his, tasting champagne and the lingering sweetness of the ices. His lips were cool and resisted for a moment before giving way. He allowed the kiss, though she still sensed the tension singing through him.

Pulling back, Cilly gazed down at him, stroking the thick blond hair from his brow.

“I’m wet,” he said, deadpan.

Cilly gazed at his sodden shirt sleeve and the damp patches on his waistcoat and let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, dear.”

“You did that on purpose.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I swear I did not, but I have been desperately restraining myself from doing so all evening. Honestly, Damian, what did you expect? The sweet peas in my room, the ices and champagne, and now a house by the sea. If you do not wish me to fall even more in love with you, I’m afraid you will need to stop being so wonderful.”

He swallowed, his brows tugging together. “More in love?” he repeated sceptically, not meeting her eyes.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know. It’s been happening since the first moment I met you, looking wicked and unrepentant in the foyer of this very hotel. I wanted you then, and every meeting between us since has only deepened my feelings. I know you, Damian. I see the man you try so valiantly to hide from the world, and I love you, all of you. Just as you are. No matter what. You can’t stop me, you know.”

He said nothing, his expression unreadable. Cilly could only imagine the turmoil her words had created inside him, but there was no help for it. Uncertain of how he felt about the kiss, she moved away again, putting a little distance between them.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, hoping she was not pushing him too hard. “I do not expect you to say it, Damian. I know you care for me, and that is enough. One day, I hope you will feel as I do, but I am not about to submit to tears and demand you declare yourself. I know that—”

“I do.”

Cilly’s gaze flew to his. “You do?”

He nodded.

“You do… what?” she asked cautiously, certain she must have missed something, because otherwise—

He let out a sound of sheer exasperation. “I love you, you witless creature, though how you can fail to have realised it is beyond me.”

Cilly’s throat was too tight to speak, so she just stared at him in stunned silence, her entire body alight with joy and such overwhelming relief she hardly knew how to contain it.

He loved her.

His gaze remained focused on the fire, his expression almost annoyed, and if Cilly had not already been head over ears in love with him, that would have been the final straw. He was simply adorable, and she was a lost cause.

“Oh, finally. If I’d known it would stun you into silence, I might have admitted it sooner,” he grumbled, though there was an uncertain look in his eyes, as if he regretted saying it.

Cilly tried to gather the shattered pieces of her wits and cobble together something resembling a sensible answer, too aware that if she said the wrong thing, she might ruin everything.

“Damian,” Cilly managed, somehow forcing her poor brain to form coherent words. “You… You do not know what that means to me, to hear you say so.”

“Yes, I do,” he said softly. “I felt it myself. I knew how you felt in church this morning, when you looked at me and…. Oh, God, Celia, I don’t know why you love me. You’re a mad fool and I don’t deserve it, not even a little, but I want it. I want you to love me, but I—”