She expected him to take his leave at that. Instead, he fiddled with the strap of his satchel.
“Is there something else?”
“Unfortunately.” He exhaled. “There is.”
But he didn’t speak. He didn’t move.
“Captain Hunter?”
He shook his head and, without saying a word, crossed to the door. For a moment, she thought he was going to leave, just like that—
The door closed. She looked up to find him inside still, just looking at her. There was something fierce in his gaze, something she could not quite understand.
“One last thing.” He spoke in a low voice. “I shouldn’t say this. I know I shouldn’t say this. Tell me to stop at any time. In fact, tell me to stop right now.”
Her heart gave one thump and then another. There was something… Something…
“Go ahead.” Her voice sounded soft, so soft in the office.
“It’s a personal request. I ought not make it.”
She couldn’t say anything.
He sighed and came to sit on the edge of her desk, his legs dangling close to her skirts. “You mentioned the possibility of marriage.”
“I did.” Her whole being fluttered. “Honestly, I’m glad to have that whole thing out of the way now. It seems like a mess.”
He leaned in a little closer. “Don’t be so sure. You won’t want for offers.”
“That’s a little optimistic. After all—”
He set a finger on her lips, stopping her words. The heat of his touch burned straight through to her heart and shocked her into silence.
“I mean it,” he said fiercely. “You won’t want for offers. You can tell yourself you won’t have any. That will be a lie. If you let yourself believe that, when you get one you may end up flattered and overwhelmed.”
“You’ve thought about me getting offers? Of marriage?”
His jaw set and he looked away. “From fools who only see that you’re lovely and delightful and present in Shanghai and command a salary of fifty dollars a year. They won’t realize that you’re an absolute treasure.”
Her eyes widened. “But—”
“No buts.” His finger was still on her lip.
When she spoke, it felt as if she were kissing him. “I see.” She tried to make a joke of it. “You must protect your investment. I’ll do my best not to run off with the first man who asks me. Will that do?”
His voice was dark and deep. “I know someone will adore you as you deserve. Some day. And I’ll accept that when it happens. But I’ll hate myself forever if you waste yourself on a man because he asked and you find him tolerable.”
She looked up. There was an intensity in his eyes. He leaned down, closer to her; his hand shifted so his thumb was on her chin and his fingers rested against her cheek.
Amelia had been married. She’d had sexual intercourse on a firm schedule.
She had never felt so intimately touched, not once. Her lips parted.
“Oh,” she whispered.
“Don’t marry someone,” he said, “unless he makes you feel like this.” And then he leaned down. He paused, a hair’s breadth from her lips.
He paused, and he stayed there, just like that. His breath was shaky, his hand against her cheek unsteady. Those tiny movements of his fingers against her jaw seared into her. He was torturing her with want. He didn’t pull back; he didn’t move forward. He simply held himself in place, letting their breaths mingle.
She realized after a few exchanged breaths that he wasn’t going to do it. That he was just going to let her sit in place and feel and want without so much as brushing their lips together.
What a waste.
Amelia pushed up an inch, pressing their lips together. It was inelegant and clumsy. Their mouths bumped together with a little too much force. He let out a surprised noise, as if he’d never thought she would do it. But before she could shrink back from him, his arm wrapped around her and his lips moved against hers. Her mind turned into stars, twinkling overhead and on a sea around them, light reflecting up and down and everywhere until she was filled with it. Her whole body seemed luminous in his touch. Their lips clung together, tasting, tasting, as if she were being tortured with a thought of what might have been if only…
If only he actually wanted this.
He pulled away first, adjusting his shirt cuffs, looking away from her, and she remembered with a sinking feeling in her gut that he hadn’t been going to kiss her. That he’d only gone as far as he had, coming so close, because he expected her to marry another man.
“If I promise to wait until I feel that again,” she heard herself saying, “I might never marry.”
The first thing that crossed his face—a self-satisfied smile—was all pride. Then he shook his head ruefully. “I’m very attractive. Many women have liked me.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d reminded her of that. She felt herself shrinking.
“They’ve all learned to do without me, every last one.” His voice gentled. “You’ll find someone more suited to you than I ever would be. You think that my caring about your feelings is extraordinary when it is a bare minimum. Don’t sell yourself cheaply, Amelia. Not even to me.”
The way he said her name felt like a caress. There was a gentleness to it. An intimacy, as if they’d crossed a boundary. There was surely something she could say in response. Something that would bring him closer. If she could respond in kind—if she could use the familiarity of his given name—
Amelia realized in something like profound embarrassment that she didn’t actually know it. Captain Hunter. It had taken her long enough to remember even that. He was Captain Hunter to her. She had kissed him, and she didn’t even know his first name.
He opened the door. “Goodbye, Amelia.”
“Farewell.” She held up her hand. “Farewell, Captain…” Damn it. “Hunter.”
He vanished down the stairs.
Chapter Fifteen
Amelia was sitting in her office, sorting through the contents of the desk drawers: dried inkwells, old pieces of candy in wax paper, papers with monthly personal budgets sketched on them…
She was trying to get her mind on anything other than the thing that just happened. A kiss. A kiss. She’d kissed him, what the devil, a kiss. It had felt like heavens opening, angelic choir singing, all of that.
She was fairly certain this wasn’t a theologically sound analogy, but that was how it had felt.
And now she was staring at someone’s monthly budget. Her predecessor’s, no doubt.
He’d been paid less than her.
(A kiss, her mind whispered, a kiss.)
Whoever had been here before her had a rather practical bent, but for the predilection for candies, if the figures were true.
A knock sounded at the door.
For a moment, her heart kicked up a notch. Captain Hunter. Had he come back? (A kiss. Another kiss?)
She looked up. It was most definitely not Captain Hunter who stood in the doorway, beaming at her with puppylike enthusiasm.
“Ah.” She sighed. “Mr.…” Damn. His name?
The boy ran a hand through sandy brown hair and gave her a smile. “Hullo,” he said cheerily. “I’m your liaison here in Shanghai, here to liaise!”