Oops!
She hadn’t meant to let that slip out, nor should she have been thinking it.
But she’d often wondered about kissing him, wished for it. Why did it feel so important now?
And why him? All the other women were in love with the vicar. But Dr. Carmichael was the handsomer man, she’d always thought so. His dark hair was lightly sprinkled with gray at the temples. Those dark, intelligent eyes of his were glorious. He was big and muscled.
His hands were exquisite.
His smile could make her heart melt.
She dared not contemplate what his kiss would do to her.
“Oh, dear.” Her heart was fluttering again, and she knew she would not respond to his kisses in any respectable way.
Had the room suddenly grown warm? Or was it these nonsensical dreams of love she was spinning again? The doctor was never going to kiss her or spend the night with her unless she was ill and on the verge of death.
Even then, it would only be in his medical capacity.
She marched to her wardrobe and took out the green silk gown she’d rashly and unthinkingly purchased on her twenty-seventh birthday. It was a frivolous expenditure, for she’d never had a proper place to wear it until now.
She wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. “Doctor, prepare yourself. I am going to make your jaw drop.”
Chapter Two
Angus Carmichael stepped out of Felicity’s bookshop and took a deep breath to fill his lungs with cold air. After holding it in as long as he could, he allowed his breath to slowly release. What was wrong with him? If he’d stayed a moment longer, he would have kissed Felicity.
There was something different about her lately. Or was he suddenly changing, suddenly wanting more out of life? Wanting Felicity, if he wished to be honest about it…but he hadn’t been honest with himself for years.
“It’s you who’s changing,” Angus muttered, chiding himself as he strode toward the Golden Hart tavern. His house was just around the corner from the tavern. He increased his pace, walking faster, for the wind was bitter cold and should have been ripping through his bones.
But he was still too hot and bothered over Felicity to feel the wind or the wet snow that now fell atop his head.
Nothing was going to relieve the heat building up inside of him except to take her in his arms and crush his lips to hers.
He’d left the bookshop in a hurry, blaming his hasty departure on the impending storm. But it was these wayward feelings that had sent him running out the door.
Felicity had been nibbling her lower lip, nipping at it so that it was a tempting, rosy pink.
She had the prettiest lips, perfect for kissing.
Lord help him, he wanted to do much more than merely taste her lips. Nothing polite in his intentions. And if she were willing? Lord help them both, for he would have allowed the rest of whatever was meant to happen between them to naturally take its course.
They were consenting adults.
He could be discreet.
No one would ever catch them stealing a night of pleasure. But if they were caught, he’d do the honorable thing and marry her.
Bah! The honorable thing was to marry her before he stole a night of pleasure. He loved Felicity. He’d loved her from the moment he first set eyes on her. He wasn’t going to steal anything from her.
If he had a jot of sense, he’d get on bended knee and offer her his heart this very day, as broken and battered as it was.
Blast. This is why he detested feelings.
They complicated everything. Would Felicity even have him? Could she ever love him?
He paused in front of the Golden Hart, debating whether to step in for an ale before returning to his own empty home. No, he didn’t need to sit there, moping into his tankard and perhaps letting something slip that he ought to have kept to himself.
He wished it was merely lust he was experiencing, but he knew how he felt about her and it went far deeper than desire for a night of pleasure.
Felicity was sweet and trusting. He would never purposely harm her. What was wrong with him? Her reputation would be destroyed if anyone ever caught them together. There would be few repercussions for him, of course. He was a man, and the ruination always fell upon the woman. He would not be the one driven out of Wellesford. As their only doctor, he was too valuable for the town to lose. But the local bookshop owner? Felicity would not stand a chance.
She wouldn’t simply lose her shop, she’d lose all her Wellesford friends and the closest thing she had to family. After all, the three young ladies—Poppy, Penelope, and Olivia—practically considered themselves her adopted sisters.
Indeed, what was he thinking?
He could never destroy that fragile bond between them. So why was he feeling this sudden, desperate yearning for Felicity?
Perhaps the letter he’d received a fortnight ago was to blame. His life was about to change. He would be leaving Wellesford soon. The thought saddened him, for he’d grown to love this community and all its inhabitants, especially, the beautiful bookshop owner.
Lord, she’s so beautiful.
What was he going to do about her? Propose to her? But did he dare make any lasting commitments now? He was going to leave for Scotland right after Christmas.
He marched into his house and lit the lamp on the small table in the entry hall. After removing his coat and scarf, he crossed to the fireplace and lit a fire. The place felt cold and empty, much as his relationship with his family had always been.
Perhaps this is why he’d been drawn to Felicity from the first. She’d never known her family. He’d always wished he’d never known his. He hadn’t been wanted, an unexpected youngest child, and everyone took pains to let him know it.
The only one who had accepted him and shown him any kindness was Devlin, his illegitimate half-brother, the other family outcast.
He poured himself a brandy and sank into his chair beside the fire. The decision not to seduce Felicity Billings ought to have put his mind at ease, but it didn’t. The moment he resolved to stop thinking about her, he simply could not stop thinking about her. The sweet scent of her skin. Her genuinely warm smile. Her lovely, expressive face. The softness of her body.
“Gad, you’re hopeless.” He finished his drink, then strode into his bedchamber, tossing off his clothes and falling exhausted onto his bed. He lay atop his covers, allowing the cold air to bite his skin. Thoughts of Felicity, entirely improper ones, still had him in a hot lather, and he needed to cool down.
Having resolved not to act on his feelings for her—at least, not until he’d gone to Scotland and assessed his inheritance—the worst thing he could do was go to see her the next morning. But that’s just what he did. After washing and dressing, he slogged his way through the piles of driven snow to reach her bookshop.
He knocked on the door and was about to turn away when he heard the light patter of footsteps. Then the door opened and he was graced with the loveliest smile. “Do come in, Dr. Carmichael…Angus. Forgive me, but I’m running a little late this morning.” The sign on the door said closed, but this hadn’t stopped him from rapping on it.
“I wanted to make certain you were all right.” For pity’s sake, he was a doctor. Learned. Intelligent. Couldn’t he come up with a better excuse to see her?
She cast him another genuinely warm smile. “Oh, most kind of you. I made it through the storm quite well, thank you.” She glanced at the sign. “Do come in. I didn’t see the point to opening on time when I doubted anyone would come by today. But you’re here and quite a welcome sight you are. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”