Standish’s eyes narrowed, but his
voice remained level. “Ma’am, I suggest you not say one more derogatory word
about my mother. If you don’t like my behavior now, you certainly won’t like it
if you continue.”
He shifted to face Millie.
“Miss Millicent, I believe it’s best I leave now.” He
reached for the bags of flour and sugar. “I’ll take these for now, then be back
tomorrow for the rest of the supplies and to settle Uncle Henry’s account.”
Without another word, he crossed the store and strode out
the door.
Millie hurried to the window and watched the material pull
taught across his thighs as he eased himself up to the seat on the wagon. Before
he flicked the reins to start the horse in motion, Geoffrey Standish winked at
her.
And then he was gone.
Brown eyes and brunette hair, tied back with a delicate
blue bow. That’s what teased Geoff’s memory as the horse pulled the wagon down
the rutted dirt road back to his uncle’s farm. What a laugh. As if he gave a
rat’s ass about a delicate blue bow. What he did care about was the young woman
wearing it. And he’d noticed every detail of her old-fashioned dress. Far from
the up-to-the-minute fashions his mother received from London and Paris, this
dress looked as if it had been around since the 1800s. But oh how it had fit
her. From the small white standup collar to the pleating of the skirt as it
flared over her hips, he’d noted everything. Made him want to know exactly what
was beneath that tightly fitted blue bodice. Yet lust aside, it was her quick
wit and smile that made him want to know more.
And that bothered him. She’d gotten under his skin. Oh
yes, in those few short minutes together, Miss Millicent Baker—with her wide
smile and dimples and the embarrassed flush to her cheeks—had definitely gotten
under his skin. A woman was the last complication he’d planned on for this
summer.
What he hadn’t counted on was a complication in the form
of a pretty young woman who barely came to his shoulders. He’d felt the spark
when their hands had first touched. And when he’d held her while helping her
down from the ladder, Geoff acknowledged he’d felt things he’d never felt
before.
Millie. Beautiful Millie with the long dark hair and
expressive brown eyes. He’d thought of her every day as he worked in the field,
tilled the dirt. And he’d certainly thought of her every night as he tossed
about in bed. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
He never should have gone back to town the second day to
settle the bill. Although he had to, since he hadn’t gotten all the supplies his
aunt and uncle needed.
She’d been alone in the store then, too.
That day she’d had on a beige dress with a gingham checked
apron over it. Not the best color on her, but his body had responded at the
sight of her nevertheless. He’d had to shift uncomfortably as his pants had
become considerably tighter.
She’d had everything boxed for him and she showed him
where they were in the back of the store. He might have been okay if they hadn’t
touched again, but as he bent to pick up a box she’d done the same for the one
beside it. Their shoulders had brushed and she’d jumped back like she’d been
burned.
Burned? Hell, she’d practically singed him. He’d had to
grab the supplies and get out of there before he did something he’d regret
forever. Like kiss her.
And there was the crux of the problem. He wanted to kiss
Millicent Baker. Wanted to do a whole lot more to her.
There was something about this simple young woman that
made him feel like an untried schoolboy, and he didn’t like that thought.
Spreading
out a blanket, she sat on it and leaned back against a tree.
A shadow
falling over her made her glance up.
His arm
outstretched against it, Geoff leaned indolently against the tree. A hint of a
smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“Avoiding
me, Miss Baker?”
“Avoiding
you? You were…never mind. I just don’t feel like being around people today.”
Geoff
inclined his head to watch her. “After telling my aunt how much you were
anticipating this day?”
Not one to
back down from a challenge, she met his eyes. “Then I was. This is now. Do you
never change your mind about things, Mr. Standish?”
“Quite
frequently, actually, but in New York we have far more to choose from. When very
little goes on in a town, I would think you would wish to partake of every event
that happens.”
“Which
goes to show you don’t know me very well, sir,” she said frostily.
While
continuing to gaze down at her, he shifted position so his back rested against
the tree.
“Actually,
Millicent, I don’t know you at all.”
“I told
you I hate the name Millicent. I prefer Millie. That’s what everyone calls me.”
“I’m not
everyone.”
“And
clearly you do whatever you wish.”
He smiled.
“Usually.”
“And what
do you wish to do now, Mr. Standish?”
“Kiss
you.”
Startled,
she jumped up and stared at him.
“K-kiss
me? I…I…I have absolutely no intention of marrying you, sir. What made you say
such a ridiculous thing?”
Eyes wide,
Geoffrey looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Marry you? I said—”
“You said
you wanted to kiss me. Do you think so little of me that you think I’d allow you
to kiss me if we weren’t wed?”
“Kissing
someone has nothing to do with getting married. It merely means I’m…slightly
attracted to you.”
“Slightly?
Sir, when you were in Father’s shop you hardly kept your hands off me.”
“You’re
quite lovely when you’re riled, you know.” He reached out to lightly brush her
hair. The corner of his lips curved up when she stepped back. “Sorry. Been
wanting to do that all week. Ever since I held you in your pa’s store.”
“Mr.
Standish, that’s not—”
“Proper. I
know.” He moved to sit on the blanket and pulled her down with him. “What is
proper around here, Millicent?”
