Page 35 of Eternal Devotion

I’d discovered a stack of National Geographic and set them on a side table. In the long hours of the night when I wasn’t missing my home or thinking about Iulian, I read about history from the perspective of people who hadn’t lived in those times.

“I must say. It’s gone from creepy to almost cozy.” Ensley hit me with a cheeky smile.

“Are you having a laugh at my expense?”

“Only slightly. It’s a bit musty still.”

When he shivered, I glanced at the fireplace. “I can light a fire if you want. I’m afraid the furnace isn’t working.”

I had no idea whether the furnace was functional, but it seemed like a feasible excuse. The chimney flue was clear. I knew that much. I’d used the fireplace earlier to burn broken furniture and clean out decades of debris. Its heat would never properly warm me, but again, I had to think about human comforts, not my own.

“Sure.”

While I coaxed flames to life, Ensley sat on the edge of the settee and watched. We shared a few meaningful glances, and the impulse I struggled to control in the Jeep resurfaced. My skin had never felt more alive, and if I didn’t know for a fact that it was impossible, I would have sworn the blood ran hot through my veins every time he looked at me.

The flames roared to life, and I babied them for a few minutes to ensure they were stable enough to leave on their own. A hypnotic play of shadows and light danced along the hardwood floor at my feet, where I squatted near the grate.

The heat radiating off the burning logs might never warm my insides, but I liked the way it felt against my fingers and face. The way it drew patterns on the ceiling and walls was mesmerizing. It made me remember a time long gone when my family would huddle together on the stone hearth during a blizzard, sharing stories as wet snow lashed our rickety homestead. Father would regale us while Mother sewed or knitted.

I pushed the thought away. Those days were centuries gone.

“That should help.” I stood and faced Ensley, expecting a smile or a spark of mischief, as was his character.

I saw neither.

A deep frown turned his mouth. His gaze remained riveted to the floor at my feet. I followed his line of sight. For the second time, I admired the swirling tango of firelight and shadow, made more intricate by the decorative pattern on the cast iron fire door.

Then, I realized what had caught his attention.

The question hadn’t formed on his lips. Perhaps the incongruity had yet to reach his intelligent mind. Aiming to distract him, I stepped forward and joined him on the settee, sitting close enough that I jostled his leg and drew his focus.

A pinch remained between his brows when he glanced up, so I hit him with a flirty smile and shamefully snagged his mind, tugging his thoughts away from dangerous realizations. I hated doing it. A tiny nudge. A bump. A diversion. Nothing more. When the worried crease vanished, I released my hold.

“Are you warmer?” I asked.

“Getting there.” He shuffled to face me and rested a hand on my knee. “Is this okay?”

In response, I laid my hand over his. Our fingers automatically entwined.

“I was thinking.” Ensley stroked his thumb over mine, staring at our joined hands. “If you aren’t busy tomorrow, maybe we could visit a few local museums.”

“Oh?”

He shrugged. “They aren’t fancy. It was an idea.”

“And might we discuss a module, perhaps?”

He chuckled. “We might. That would be fun.”

Daytime excursions left much to be desired, but I would sacrifice comfort to expand my knowledge and have the freedom to ask veiled questions without garnering suspicion.

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.” Ensley’s attention drifted to my mouth and lingered.

For a long time, we stared at one another in the low light of the quiet room. The fire crackled and popped. Flames danced in his eyes.

I scraped my teeth over my bottom lip, and Ensley’s pulse jumped. Only then did I realize how focused I’d become on his breathing, on his heartbeat, and on the faint flutter of skin at the side of his neck near his jaw.