Distant Dreams by Lykins Jenny

Author:Lykins, Jenny [Lykins, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Jenny Lykins
Published: 2013-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

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She waited until Alec was alone in the library and Margaret was taking care of Samuel before she slipped through the library doors and closed them with a click behind her. She couldn’t go on with this tension between them, and the only way she knew how to deal with it was to face it head on.

“Put the tray on the table, Martin. Thank you.” His voice sounded as weary as she felt.

“I’m not Martin.”

He raised his head from his paperwork and just looked at her until she squirmed.

“Do I have you to thank for getting me into my bed?”

He looked away and scratched the back of his head before answering. “You were asleep on his bed. It wasn’t proper.”

“And we wouldn’t want to do anything that wasn’t proper,” she agreed. Like tricking someone into marrying you, she wanted to add.

He simply looked at her, as if he expected her to go on.

“Alec,” she walked to his desk and sank into the chair opposite him, “I know you don’t believe my story. I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t either if I was in your place. And I’m not asking you to believe me now. But you offered to be my friend once, and now I’m asking you to be. I’ve done nothing wrong, except be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Literally.

He continued to stare at her, but his eyes flickered away for a moment.

“I’m not crazy,” she went on. “You don’t have to believe me, but until the jeweler gets back or the marriage is annulled, at least be my friend.”

The sound of a carriage rolling up the drive drifted through the open window as his face softened and an apology entered his eyes.

“Friends?” she asked hesitantly as she held out her hand.

He looked her in the eyes, then his lips curved in a reluctant grin.

“Friends,” he agreed as he curled his fingers around hers. The very warmth of his hand raced up her arm and spread through her body, drugging her with his touch, making her dream of impossible lives with fairytale endings.

They sat there, connected by more than just their hands, their smiles of friendship turning to something deeper.

“Alec Christopher!” William Hawthorne’s dictator voice boomed even through the thick closed doors of the library. The doors flew open and he stood there, framed by them, as he took in the picture of his son holding Shaelyn’s hand across the desk.

Martin advanced around him to announce blandly, “Your father, sir.”

Shaelyn released Alec’s hand and turned in her seat to see what doom Der Fuerher brought with him today.

“Alec, my boy.” He ignored Shaelyn’s presence completely. “Look who I have brought.”

He turned and held out his hand. An absolutely stunning angel of a woman stepped through the door. Blond, gorgeous, ethereal, Shaelyn wouldn’t have been surprised if a halo had wreathed her head. A light of anticipation lit her eyes when she smiled a brilliant smile at Alec.

Please let this be a cousin.

“Faith,” Alec rasped, then glanced at Shaelyn and back to the blond angel.

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