Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club #1)(31)

Her and Harry and this delicious, delicious kiss. She was starting to understand all the epic love in Greek myths. If some of the characters kissed like this, no wonder they all did ridiculous things in the name of love.

Merry pushed her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and felt the softness of the strands. In response, he held her closer, forming her body to his. She fit him like oil pouring into a bottle, filling every curve and nook. She could not be quite sure where she started, and he ended anymore, only that it felt too right to be here, wrapped in his embrace and drinking in the taste of him.

A ripple of wind riffled her hair. It whispered to her, taking the place of her sensible inner voice. But she could not break away quite yet. She drew back slowly, loosening her hands from around his neck then letting him ease the kiss to a gentler one until he pressed one tender one upon her lips. Merry opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his pupils dark.

“Merry, we should be together. You cannot deny you want me.”

The words were a cold, stark shock, as though a wave had reached up from the sea and swept her away. Of course, she wanted him. Physically. But how could she have been so foolish to give the man an inch? The smug smile quirking on his lips made her push away from him.

He released her.

“You think this is a game?” Her hands shook, so she clenched them at her side. “Anyone could have seen us.”

“I think we were both aware of that,” he drawled. “And I do not think this is a game. If it is, I am losing sorely.”

“How so? You can get away with kissing any woman you like at any moment. I, on the other hand, certainly cannot kiss a man without consequence.”

Damn him, why did he have to look at her in that way? With that sort of wry amusement that warmed his eyes and sent them digging straight down into her soul. If she let those voices dictate to her again, she’d be back in his arms before long.

Remember your friends. Yes, remember them. Remember the pains they had been through at the expense of men. And she could not forget Harry’s history. She never thought he’d be the sort of man to play games with a woman he purported to respect so she could only conclude that he was bored, and his mind had tricked him into thinking he had feelings for her. Perhaps he did have some, but they would be minor and fleeting.

Unlike hers. It would be all too easy to fall entirely for Harry, and where would that leave her when he tired of her?

Much like her friends—heartbroken and aggravated by the world of men.

“I am losing, Merry, because it is utter agony to be around you and not be allowed to touch you or kiss you. I am losing because you keep denying what is between us and what it could—what it would—become.” He took off his hat and swept a hand through his hair. “I have cared for you for a long time, Merry. I should like to do that for the rest of my life too.”

The words struck her hard in the chest. How easy it would be to believe that. To fall into his arms with promises of being cared for by him for the rest of her days. But it was all a lie, it had to be.

“You are lying to yourself, Harry. I could not keep you content for long. You are not a foolish man, you must know that.”

“You are right. I am not a foolish man. I know myself and I know what I want.” He put his hat back on. “What I want is you.”

She folded her arms over her chest as if she could prevent the words beating into her heart. “You will see that you are wrong soon enough.”

He shook his head. “No, you shall see that you are wrong, Merry. It is only a matter of time.”

“You will be waiting an eternity I fear.”

He shrugged. “You’re worth the wait.”

Oh lord, how was she meant to keep her defenses up against such words? She turned away and eyed the horizon, picturing her friends and their vows. She recalled Arabella’s recent hurt. Even if she could survive such heartbreak, what sort of friend would she be if she turned on her vows to them? No, he could say all the honeyed words he wanted but she would not give in.

Harry came to her side, leaning in and making her skin prickle. “Are you going to the kite festival tomorrow?”

She frowned. Why had he gone from declarations of...well, something...to the kite festival?

“Um, yes.”

“I shall see you there then.” He eyed her for a moment. “Be careful, Merry. something strange has been going on at the house, I’m certain of it. I would not wish you to come to harm.”

She shook her head. A bit of wind and a broken door did not add up to danger, not to her mind. Still, she turned to face him. “I will be cautious,” she promised. Why she even owed him such a promise, she did not know.

“Good. I could not live with myself if anything happened to you.”

She tightened her arms about herself. “Stop.”

“Stop?”

“Stop with your words. Your-your nice words. I cannot stand them.”

“I had no idea nice words were so offensive.” Harry chuckled. “I shall see you tomorrow, Merry, but I cannot guarantee what sort of words I will use.”

Merry avoided watching him as he left her on the hilltop. Tomorrow was the annual kite festival where all the villagers and some visitors from surrounding towns would bring their kites to the beach and fly them for everyone to see. It had always been something she looked forward to—it was the sort of socializing she quite enjoyed. There was no need for polite conversation or silly rules that she could never quite get her head around.