by Dee, Bonnie
Rose drifted on the waves of his voice, as secure and content as if in a boat she knew could not possibly capsize. His cadence carried her along, weaving an enthralling spell. No adult in her recollection had ever told fairytales to her as a child. What a wonder to relax and be transported to a nursery somewhere in London, eavesdropping on a flying lesson that used happy thoughts as fuel. The impossible became possible, and Rose mentally cheered as Wendy and her brothers took to the air.
In addition to her childlike delight in the story, Rose felt the physical response of a mature woman listening to the sensual voice of a man. William’s spectacles rested low on the bridge of his nose, his hazel eyes more brown than green in this light. The sharp angles of his face begged to be touched. She imagined the feeling of smoothly shaven skin stretched over hard bone underneath her exploring fingertips. She also imagined his deep voice murmuring endearments in her ear as his hands caressed her body.
Just as her fantasy grew too excruciating to bear, Carmody ended the chapter and closed the book.
“Oh no! You can’t stop there,” she exclaimed. “I want to see Neverland.”
He took a long swallow of his lemonade, nearly emptying the glass. “You may read the rest for yourself.”
“Not the same. I am enjoying your acting. You paint such a clear picture.”
“Mr. Barrie’s words.”
“You have a lovely reading voice,” Rose complimented. “When I visit again, perhaps you might read another chapter. But I suppose we ought to get to work now, making a list of supplies for the project.”
“I’ve ordered soil which will be delivered soon. Now I must place orders for the plants from nurseries I’ve researched.”
“But you’ve only just seen my plan. Are there no additions or changes you wish to make?”
“Miss Gardener, I have implicit faith in your vision, and I’m eager to begin.”
“We needn’t wait for builders to tear down the old planting tables. With those out of the way, it will be easier to envision our garden. I mean… your garden,” she corrected.
“It is such rough labor. Your hands…”
“I have done hard work all my life. It does not bother me. So, shall we get to work?”
Chapter Ten
From the moment Miss Gardener stepped into the conservatory, Will scarcely heard the details of her proposal. She glowed with animation and inspiring enthusiasm, and he desired her with a fierceness brand new to him. As she came to a conclusion, he nodded and offered an appropriate comment while corralling his wild longing in a secure paddock.
Once he’d gotten his feelings penned, he became a better listener, enjoying their talk about books and their importance to children. He would have read himself hoarse if Rose demanded it, but he was equally glad to put Pan’s adventures aside and join her in tearing out the old planting tables.
Using a hammer, he applied brute force to knocking boards apart. Rose carried the pieces through the outer door to pile them behind the garden shed. When Will straightened to relieve pain in his lower back, he noticed Rose watching him with a curious expression. Was it admiration? No, he must be imagining her interest. Nevertheless, he posed a bit, drawing back the hammer to deliver a blow that made the wood crack.
“Let me have a go. Looks like fun.”
He surrendered the hammer to her and watched with delight as she knocked out a table leg.
“Bloody ’ell but that feels good!” Rose immediately clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carmody. That was rude.”
“Do not apologize. I appreciate your enthusiasm. And, we are to be friends, might we address each other by our given names? Please call me Will.”
She smiled as she passed him the hammer. “Then you must call me Rose…Will.”
For a moment they both stood, grasping the handle of the tool, warm and a bit slippery from perspiration. When Rose looked at him, Will fell into the cool blue pools of her eyes.
“I—” Any thought he might have formed blew away. He could only lock gazes with this woman who with equal ease made delicate bouquets and wielded a hammer as if it were a weapon.
A sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead, her cheeks pink as a prize rose. Her magnetic gaze drew him closer until their faces were inches apart. He viewed her blurry face through the steam on his spectacles. Will shook himself from the trance. He had promised to maintain professional distance. He would never force his attentions on a woman or—
Rose pushed up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
Will grunted in surprise and let go of the hammer at the same moment Rose did. It hit the floor with a thunk as they reached for one another.
Sliding one hand around her waist, he supported her head with the other so he might kiss her more deeply. Damp and soft as petals, her lips parted under the pressure of his mouth. This was kissing. How had he managed to reach thirty years old without experiencing an act that seemed as necessary and natural as breathing? Rose’s quiet hum of pleasure assured him she enjoyed it too.
Any self-doubt or wavering vanished as instinct instructed him how to hold her and kiss her, and where to allow his hands to wander. He molded them over her hips, feeling her hipbones and waist through her light cotton day dress. Rose had flung her arms around his neck, grappling him close and pressing her body tight against his. His manhood thickened as it hardened. Surely, she must feel the bulge pressed against her skirts.
This might be a good time to pull away. You know where all these good feelings may lead.
But Will did not want to stop kissing and holding her. If he did, they might come to their senses and the glorious moments would be over. He had to have just a little more of this passion before reason resumed authority.
He gently sucked on Rose’s lower lip then dared to caress the tip of her tongue with his. The sensation was pure bliss.
Rose pulled away only to breathe and gasp softly, “Oh!” before plunging back in for this deeper connection.
Heat built between them in the sweltering greenhouse, until it was difficult to tell how much was lust and how much was the intense afternoon sun. Will shuffled backward toward the door to the library, bringing Rose along with him.
He tripped over the hammer. Rose stumbled too and kept herself from falling by grasping Will tightly, a hand landing on his arse. He swept her off her feet like some rake in a gothic novel, and carried her through the doors into the library. Rose did not beg him to stop like a damsel in a story would have. Instead she looped arms around his neck and leaned into him, kicking the door further open as they passed through.
He tossed his misty spectacles toward the library table and placed Rose on a large ottoman, shoving aside books to make room. Unaccustomed to the day’s activities, his back wrenched and pain radiated up his spine.
He groaned.
She let go of his neck, eyes wide. “Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing.” He knelt before her, face was level with hers. Rose regarded him with those lovely eyes, caressed his cheek, and touched his lips with her fingers. Blazes shot through Will’s body from every point of contact. Back pain forgotten, he kissed her fingertips, then took her hand to kiss every knuckle and nuzzle the soft center of her palm.
“Ooh. That feels lovely,” she whispered, offering her other hand.
Will knew instinctively how to touch her. He felt in his bones and blood precisely what she wanted, innate carnal knowledge percolating through him. He nipped the fluttering pulse in her wrist before moving up her inner arm with nibbling kisses that prompted soft sighs.
His hand came to rest on her thigh and he considered pushing up her skirt to find stockings, garters and feminine flesh. God, how he wanted to touch those things! But it was a border he would not cross. There must be some restraint to his passion. Instead, he massaged her leg through her skirts and that seemed to please her.
“Oh,” she moaned. “Oh, Will! Just… just a little higher.”
He moved his han
d to where leg met torso, one finger venturing even higher. As he continued to massage, Rose groaned louder, then stopped kissing him to pant, “Oh…my…Gawd!”
Her body went stiff in his arms.
Will pulled back to view her parted lips and fluttering eyelids. Her blissful expression told him something had occurred, but there instinct failed him, for he wasn’t quite certain what it was.
After a moment, Rose opened her eyes to look dazedly at him. “You… That was… I am so embarrassed.”
“No! Have I offended or hurt you in some way? I apologize.”
She reached for his hand, holding it to her chest beneath which her heart pounded. “You did nothing wrong. I enjoyed it. A bit too much. I shouldn’t have come undone like that.”
Will was still confused about how he’d brought her ecstasy with a simple touch. These were not things a man was taught. Even Guy had never spoken in detail about his experience with ladies.
Rose smoothed away his frown with a touch. “I never meant for things to become so overheated. Perhaps it prompted by our exertions in the conservatory. But you mustn’t be concerned. I enjoyed it very much.”
“I am glad. Even if my behavior was improper, kissing you is the best experience I have ever had. I would happily do it again.”
“Maybe not just now,” she said gently. “For I fear where further contact might lead.”
As quickly as this storm had blown up, it was over. He had crossed a line, and she regretted their romantic interlude.
He shifted away. “I understand,” he said, although he felt like howling in disappointment. “I will not bother you again.”
“You misunderstand. I do not wish to end this aspect of our friendship. But for today we ought to take a moment to consider.” She grasped his hand between both of hers. “I like you, Will Carmody, more than I anticipated. I said our friendship should remain uncomplicated, but my feelings have begun to change. Have yours?”
He peered into her face, a bit blurry without his spectacles. “My feelings have not altered since first we met. They have only grown with every encounter. The more I come to know you, the more assured I am that you are a lady of the finest caliber and I am the luckiest man alive that you would grace me with your presence.”
Rose’s lips parted on a slight gasp and then she smiled. She must think him an overly emotional dolt. He should have stuck to his habitual silence rather than spout poetic nonsense.
“Those are the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to me… William. But I cannot imagine what amazing qualities you believe I possess. I am not at all special.”
“Ah, but you are, Miss Gardener. Your beauty is a given. But more than that, you are bright, industrious, independent and imaginative. You make grand plans and then work to execute them. I have witnessed what a stalwart friend you are to Hattie and to Guy. My admiration for you is legitimate, I assure you.”
“You paint a perfect picture of me, but that is not all of who I am. I have quite a temper, and can be selfish and dogged in pursuit of something I want.”
“Determined! I would add that to the list. What I cannot imagine is why you would have any interest in me. I am nothing to look at, nor am I charming like Hardy.”
“Surface charm is not the best of qualities. I like that you don’t make clever idle talk, although you have a dry wit on occasion. When you speak, I immediately trust what you say is true. And if I did not find your appearance appealing” — She swept her gaze slowly over Will’s body, making him squirm — “You may be certain I would not have thrown myself at you today in such a madcap fashion.”
She regarded him with a penetrating gaze. “In fact, I feel the desire rising again, so I believe I will take my leave, giving us both a chance to calm ourselves.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek chastely.
Will closed his eyes at the light touch and the brush of her breath as she spoke again. “May I see you again very soon?”
“Yes, please.” He rose, took her hands and pulled her up to face him. Without thought or second guessing, he placed his arms around her as if they belonged there. “I understand your schedule is rather more hectic than mine. Whenever you would like, give me a call on the telephone. Will you please, Rose?”
A mischievous smile curved her lips. “I most certainly will.”
Chapter Eleven
“You are in a fine mood this morning.” Candace paused in her watering to regard her new employer. “What transformative magic has occurred to make you sing as you work?”
“Was I?” Even as she replied Rose could not control her grinning or the little song that repeated in her brain. It was a tune played on the carousel in the park across the street. Often the strains of the calliope drifted on the breeze to bring the whirling ponies directly into the shop. Her heart felt rather like one of those painted horses now, galloping in mad circles and getting nowhere.
“Maybe not singing, but you are humming. Might it have something to do with your appointment yesterday? Did you find Mr. Carmody’s conservatory quite to your liking?”
Rose answered as if she was not aware of Candace’s teasing tone. “I did. We removed some old tables and as soon as the garden beds are finished, we are very excited to begin planting.”
“Mm-hm.” Candace resumed watering.
Rose feigned a punch to her shoulder. “You are entirely too saucy for an assistant. I must say you too appear to be in a great humor today.”
“Because for the first time in years I feel unfettered.” She exhaled deeply. “Madame’s school was as structured as any military unit, and since returning to London, I’ve done nothing but fear my future. I still have no idea what it holds, but thanks to your kindness, I am out from under Mr. Merker’s roof. I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude for this freedom.”
“Stuff and nonsense. You are doing me a favor. As you can tell after only a couple of days of working here, I desperately needed an assistant. You are a perfect flatmate as well, tidier than I am by far. We will get along wonderfully for so long as you choose to stay.”
Candace’s joy diminished. “But I cannot hide from my guardian forever. He no doubt has detectives or agents searching for me. There will come a day of reckoning, when I must stand against him.”
“I hope you do not mind that I asked Mr. Carmody if his solicitor might help in the matter. Perhaps there is a loophole by which you might claim your inheritance early.”
“On the contrary, I am greatly pleased!” Candace’s skirt brushed against the freshly watered plants, dampening the dress she had borrowed from Rose. “I will appreciate any help as I have no idea what legal recourse is available to me.”
“Then I will telephone Mr. Carmody to set a meeting.”
“Can I trust his discretion? If word of my whereabouts got back to Mr. Merker, he might try to take me by force.”
Rose took her hand and gave a supportive squeeze. “I’m certain you may trust William Carmody and his solicitor, but serving customers might bring unwanted attention. You should work with the flowers in back.”
“I am of most use to you on the floor. No one in this city has seen me since I left for France five years ago, and rarely before that as I was merely a child. I doubt anyone would recognize my face.”
“I fear for you, Candace, nearly as much as you fear for yourself. We should take precautions.”
A customer swept into the store like a strong wind, interrupting their discussion.
Rose recognized Lady Anne Cromwell, Guy Hardy’s former lover and one of the wealthiest widows in London. Her ladyship’s patronage could make a restaurant, or a shop, instantly popular, as her support of Hattie’s millinery had done.
“I simply must have that arrangement in the window. The design is exquisite,” the patrician beauty proclaimed without preamble. “Have it delivered to this address.”
The lad trailing behind her carrying packages hurried to present Rose with Lady Cromwell’s card.
Rose did not usually sel
l the display bouquet, but she would not turn down this opportunity. “I will telephone the delivery service right away and have it sent over.”
Her ladyship took a long look around the shop. “Very nice. I will be certain to recommend the place. Prospect Street is fast becoming my favorite shopping spot. Tres chic for a once drab neighborhood.”
Rose recognized her ladyship’s chapeau as one of Hattie’s creations and wondered if the woman knew her favorite milliner and her ex-lover were soon to be married. Would that prompt her to end her patronage of the Prospect Street shops? That was a worry for another day and there was nothing to be done about it.
As quickly as she had entered, Lady Anne blew out of the shop, trailing the scent of gardenias behind her.
“Who was that?” Candace stared at the feathered hat bobbing down the street through the front window.
Rose explained the importance of their illustrious visitor without mentioning her ladyship’s affair with Hardy. The young woman’s ignorance of someone as well-known as Lady Anne Cromwell underscored how isolated she had been kept from London society. Merker had been intent on controlling Candace completely, but she had escaped her keeper. Still, she held on to her freedom by a tenuous and easily snapped thread.
The day’s work passed slowly while Rose’s mind carouseled in circles. She had arranged for Arietta to come that very evening to try on her dress, and felt unaccountably nervous that her sister would finally see the florist shop. Even more nerve-racking was the stallion riding front and center on her merry-go-round: Will Carmody.
Their encounter in the conservatory yesterday had left Rose both elated and shaken. She had certainly not intended any of it to happen, but the intimate atmosphere and Will’s magnetic presence had drawn her into his arms like a honeybee to pollen. She wanted him with a powerful longing she’d never felt before. The only thing akin to it had been her desire to open a shop.
It wasn’t as if she had no experience with lovemaking. She’d kissed lads in her neighborhood, and chaps she had two-stepped with at the dance hall. On a date at a movie house, one fellow had fervently mimicked the passion of the lovers on screen. But Rose had never been inspired to see any of these beaus a second time. She’d begun to believe that so-called “true love” was a myth—until she’d seen Hattie and Guy together.
