Forever and a Day by Delilah Marvelle Read Free Book Online

gently shook his hand, not wanting him to feel shame in what he was. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. ’Tis a blessin’, not a curse, I assure you. ’Tis also the truest mark of wealth there is.”
He glanced up. “So I am a man of wealth?”
“With hands like these and silver buttons to match, you most certainly are.” She lowered her voice in warning, squeezing his hand. “Whatever you do, though, Brit, don’t tell anyone, and don’t parade that money in your satchel. You can’t be trustin’ anyone but me from here on out. You hear?”
His fingers curled and tightened around her hand, squeezing his warmth against her own. “And who are you to me?” A huskiness lingered in his uncertain tone as he searched her face. “Why do you care?”
He reminded her so much of herself when she was younger, unwilling to trust but having no other choice but to trust. Although her only family, her dear da, had disappeared many years ago for reasons she would never know, she’d see to it that this man’s family didn’t suffer in the way she had. Someone out there loved him and missed him, and she would ensure he was returned back into their arms where he belonged.
“Consider me a friend who understands what it’s like to be dependent on the love and generosity of others.” She slid her hand from his and pointed to that double row of silver buttons. “Those will have to come off, too.”
He glanced down at his waistcoat, his brows coming together. “What? The buttons?”
“Yes, the buttons. They’re silver, aren’t they?”
“I suppose they are. What of it?”
“It means you’re likely to be robbed of them.”
He fingered one of the buttons. “But they’re attached to my waistcoat.”
“Not for long they aren’t. Let me show you how it’s done over on my street.” She yanked her full skirt up to the knee, exposing the leather holster attached to her thigh, and slid a small blade out before letting her skirts drop again.
He stepped back, his eyes jumping toward the blade. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me.” She grabbed his waist and dragged him back over toward herself. “I only want the buttons.”
He grabbed hold of her wrist, twisting the blade hard and off to the side, away from himself. “All I ask is that you keep it pointed away from me.”
“Oh, cease your brayin’.” She jerked her wrist from his grasp, ignoring the sting. Firmly holding the top silver button away from the embroidered fabric of his waistcoat, she slashed the threads beneath it, catching the button with her other hand.
He searched her face, the resistance in his body waning as the edge of his full mouth quirked. “I like you.”
“Oh, do you, now?” she tossed up at him. “Let’s just see how long that lasts. Very few men like a woman with a quick tongue.”
Holding her gaze, his large hands curved around her waist, causing her to stiffen. He leaned in close, despite the blade in her hand pointing toward him, and asked softly and adoringly, “ Mrs. Milton, are you really married? Or are you pretending to be? Because I find you endearing. Tongue, mind and all.” He paused and added, “I also find you to be incredibly attractive. Incredibly.”
The man had apparently lost the last of his mind and his ability to censor his own thoughts. She lowered her gaze, the heat of those lingering hands making her stomach tingle. “I’m not married anymore,” she admitted, her throat tightening at the thought of Raymond. “I was, when I was younger, but he died.”
“Ah.” His hands drifted away from her hips. “Did you love him?”
She edged back and half nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
She half nodded again. “Thank you.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “Were you and he ever in Paris? Is that where I may know you from?”
She glanced up at him. Her and Raymond in Paris? Oh, now she’d heard it all. Raymond hated the French about as much as he hated the mayor and his