"That was kind of you," Cross said as they ambled along the path.
Essie shrugged. "It's not my place to disclose all the details, but I felt it was wise to give her some sort of awareness. I've always liked her. It would be a pity to be saddled with Trighton for the sake of title."
"It would be a travesty to be saddled with him for any reason."
Essie chuckled. "Aren't fond of the fellow, are you?"
"I despise him."
"You always were a good judge of character," she replied lightly.
Cross narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if she were goading him, but as her smile grew, daring him to return the gesture, his irritation melted against the warmth of her grin, so chuckling lightly, he turned his attention to the park. His eye caught movement by one of the various trees littering the landscape, and upon closer reflection, he recognized the man.
Trighton.
"Hmm." He led Essie off the path and towards a grove of trees not far away, yet still in enough sight for Trighton to see.
Gossip, not scandal. He whispered to himself as he pulled Essie a bit closer than was proper.
"Cross, what are you—"
"Shh, just…" he murmured and turned to face her. Gently he raised his gloved hand and traced the smooth line along her jaw, savoring the nearness of her body, the scent of lilac and lemon coming from her skin. A tendril of hair had escaped her coiffure and, giving into temptation, he drew the long lock of butter colored curl into his fingers and rubbed it, memorizing the texture, even through his glove. "Like thick silk, only far finer," he whispered.
Essie's gaze searched his, confusion transforming to an expression of secret wonder. Her bright blue eyes searched his, as if trying to discern if he were acting, or if it were real.
Cross lifted her hand, gently he kissed her wrist, inhaling deeply, closing his eyes as he memorized the warm fragrance of her skin.
"Cross…" Essie said softly, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips, beckoning him to taste their flavor.
Closing his eyes, he fought a civil war within himself. Wanting to taste her so desperately, yet loving her enough to restrain himself. Because now would not be to her benefit, rather he was quite sure a kiss would do far more harm to her reputation than good.
So reluctantly, he opened his eyes and stepped back. Her eyes questioned him, then shifted to behind him, widening.
Tilting her head, she glancing from Cross to behind him once more.
He didn't have to turn to guess who stood behind him, yet he turned anyway. "Trighton." He spoke directly just before he saw him.
"Crossby." Trighton's tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed.
"Have a lovely afternoon," Cross replied, steel in his tone, dismissing him.
Trighton sneered.
Essie squeezed Cross' hand.
Cross couldn't help the victorious smirk that crept across his face just before he followed Essie's lead.
Trighton's gaze narrowed.
"Good day!" Cross called out as he followed Essie back towards the path,
"Just what was that about?" Essie asked, her tone slightly breathless.
"What?" Cross asked, playing dumb.
"For pity's sake, one of you doesn't want me and the other is playing a game," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Cross paused.
Maybe it was from the undertone of the meeting with Trighton.
Maybe his blood was still boiling from their almost kiss,
Maybe it was simply madness taking over.
"Essie." He paused, waiting for her to turn and face him. Regarding her fully, he held her gaze, wanting her to hear every word, to see it' truth reflected in his eyes. "I refuse to discuss Trighton. He's below my mentioning. You however… were the only one who agreed to play anything." He waited, allowing his words to sink in.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, searching his gaze, as if trying to determine if what he said, was what he actually meant.
Women.
Shaking his head, Cross turned them around and headed back towards her home. "I think we've tested fate enough for one day."
Rather, fate had tested him enough.
And he'd not risk taking a step too far.
He was already afraid he had.
CHAPTER FIVE
Essie paced the floor. The evening sunset bathed her room in an orange glow, but she was far too distracted by her afternoon with Cross to observe the beauty of the light.
Just what was happening?
Biting her lip she paused before the hearth, watching the golden flames lick hungrily at the wood. Was he playing the part? Was he actually pursuing her? Was that what he had meant when he said that she was the only one who agreed to play along? What did that even mean? And how was it that she had known him her whole life—or most of it—and never felt so… she didn't know what to call it. But was a pull, an…
Attraction.
Essie gasped.