Christmas at Eden Manor Page 4

  “God, Cyrus!” she gasped, as an ache of need pulsed through her before she was ready to handle it.

  Cyrus had appeared calm, leisurely, at his ease. But he’d evidently been fighting feelings of his own. Her breathless cry seemed to snap his control. He used his clasp on her hand to pivot her around and then slid his free arm around her, pressing her against the length of his body.

  His warm, lean strength was exactly what Brie wanted to feel. She freed her hand from his and instinctively twined her arms around his neck. With his hand now free, he used it to cup the back of her head.

  “You’re so beautiful, Brie,” he murmured thickly. “So beautiful and… and glowing with life.” His eyes like flames, almost fierce in the moonlight, he leaned his head down to claim her lips.

  She responded immediately, opening eagerly to the questioning advance of his tongue and rubbing her breasts and hips against his firm chest.

  He made a rough sound in his throat as he moved his mouth urgently against hers and tangled his tongue with hers. One of his hands was still curved around her skull, holding her head steady for his kiss. But the other one was stroking up and down her back.

  Arousal pulsing between her legs, Brie clutched at Cyrus’s neck and shoulders. Irresistibly drawn as the kiss grew deeper, one of her hands slid up to his hair. Her fingers tangled into it, and the little guttural sounds he made in response were the sexiest things she’d ever heard.

  He finally broke off the kiss but only to bury his face against her neck, nuzzling the delicate skin of her throat. She moaned helplessly and arched back. She would have fallen had Cyrus’s arms not held her stable.

  “Cyrus,” she gasped, pressing his head against her neck when he found the tender spot at her pulse.

  He grunted in response, mouthing and flicking his tongue on her skin.

  She tried to cling to the threads of her control, but her body knew what it wanted, knew it wanted Cyrus. “Cyrus,” she gasped again when she felt his hand much lower on her back.

  Then suddenly he released her, panting heavily as he gazed across just the few inches between them. “I… I didn’t intend to do that,” he said at last, his voice much rougher than it normally was. “Are you all right, Brie?”

  She was flushed and panting and brutally disappointed at the end of the embrace.

  And also a little relieved.

  This was happening so fast—it was intoxicating and terrifying both. She’d never known a man who’d pulled out of an embrace that had gone so far, and it just made her appreciate Cyrus even more.

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Of course. It was… a really good kiss.”

  “Yes. Yes, it was. But I should never have let it go so far.”

  “It was fine,” she said, finally catching her breath. “Really. I… wanted to.”

  His eyes were searching her face now almost urgently. “I’m far too old for you, Brie.”

  “But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Not if we’re only going to spend the week together. Age doesn’t make a difference in such a situation.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s not about a future together or anything like that. It’s just about… right now.”

  “Even so, I’m not in the habit of losing control like that.”

  “We both got a little swept away.” She gave him a little smile, wanting to make him relax again, wanting to make him feel better. “Must be the moonlight.”

  She let out a breath when she saw an ironic twitch of his lips. “Or maybe Gordon put something in the mousse.”

  She laughed, but it caught in her throat when he reached out to take her hand in both of his. “Brie,” he murmured thickly. “Tell me the truth. Do you think less of me now?”

  “No!” She was so surprised she stared at him. “No, of course not.” She dropped her eyes as she admitted, “To tell you the truth, I like you even more.”

  “And you still want to spend the week with me?”

  “Yes. Definitely.” Her eyes flew back up to his face. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  She smiled, feeling warm and happy and rather swoony again. “Okay then. Very good. Then we’re fine. You’ll have to let me pick our activities tomorrow then.”

  “That sounds like an excellent plan. Now I’d better get you to your car before I’m less than a gentleman again. You’re far too beautiful in the moonlight.”

  He escorted her back to her car and even offered to drive her home so she wouldn’t have to do it herself. She refused, of course, but she found it a sweet gesture.

  He kissed her very gently before he said goodnight, and she just about melted into her car seat.

  She was thinking as she drove away that she’d never really known a gentleman before. The guys she’d dated had been anything but.

  It was different, being treated like she was genuinely special, like she was worthy of extra effort.

  She liked it. A lot. Even though it meant she was driving home without having all her physical urges satisfied.

  She couldn’t help but wonder how a man like Cyrus—so thoughtful and intelligent and attractive and romantic—was still unattached.

  A woman with any sense should have snatched him up a long time ago.

  Three

  Cyrus was drinking coffee and scanning through e-mail on his tablet at just after seven the following morning.

  After his intense feelings and responses the evening before, he hadn’t expected to sleep very well. But he had. For over six hours, which was more than he normally slept. This morning he felt relaxed and strangely invigorated, excited about seeing Brie again.

  It had been far more difficult than it should have been to pull back from her the night before—to not give into the intensity of his desire, which had astonished him with its power and with how quickly it had risen inside him. He was a normal, healthy man, of course, but at his age he wasn’t used to such intense physical responses. He was glad he’d controlled himself though.

  Brie deserved more than to be an outlet for his long-repressed physical needs.

  Pushing the thought away, he tried to focus on his tablet. His assistants were taking care of his e-mail this month, so his in-box wasn’t as unmanageable as he would have otherwise expected, and he couldn’t summon the energy to worry about the e-mails that were still there, waiting for him to get to after the holidays.

  It had been years since anything had shifted his focus from work for long.

  A great number of years.

  “You’re not checking your e-mail, are you?” a familiar male voice came from behind him.

  Cyrus turned to see Harrison, his oldest nephew, approaching with a smile. “Harrison! What are you doing here, son?” He stood up to return the brief hug Harrison gave him.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You realize the appalling irony of chastising anyone else for checking e-mail on vacation, don’t you?” Cyrus smiled as he took his seat again, gesturing Harrison into the chair beside him. “Is Gordon getting you breakfast?”

  “Thank you. Yes.” Harrison’s mouth twitched up. “To both the breakfast and the irony. But I told you we were taking care of everything important while you’re on a break. You really don’t have to worry.”

  “I’m not worrying.” A couple of weeks ago, Cyrus never would have believed he could leave his work behind for so long and not worry about what was happening in his absence, but it was true. For the past few days, he hadn’t worried about his work at all.

  At all.

  “Good.” Harrison smiled at Gordon, who’d brought him out a plate of eggs, bacon, and croissant, as well as a cup of coffee. “Thank you, Gordon.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.” Gordon took Cyrus’s nearly empty cup to refill it.

  “So why are you here then?” Cyrus asked, returning his focus to his nephew. “I thought you were spending the week in Atlanta, preparing for the launch of the new tearoom. Aren�
��t Marietta and Melissa with you?”

  “They are. They’re still in Atlanta. I’m just here for a quick stop. Ben called me.”

  Cyrus suddenly realized why his nephew had made the completely unexpected trip to Savannah. He arched his eyebrows coolly. “He’s worried?”

  “He is. So is Aunt Lucy. They think you’re not acting like yourself at all. You disappear for hours every day. You missed a lunch. You won’t answer their questions about what you’ve been doing. You’re acting… distracted. They’re worried.” Harrison looked slightly uncomfortable. He’d never liked to have these kinds of conversations.

  Cyrus didn’t like them either. “There is nothing to worry about.”

  “So then what’s going on with you?”

  Clearing his throat, Cyrus wondered how he should answer the question. He didn’t like to lie. He’d never liked to lie. But the time he was spending with Brie was private—it was purely their own—and he didn’t have to justify his actions to his nephew, no matter how much he loved him.

  Gordon returned just then with a new cup of coffee for Cyrus and a small bouquet of sweet peas, tied in pretty simplicity with a pink ribbon.

  “In case you would like to give them to the young lady today,” Gordon murmured.

  Cyrus stiffened his shoulders and gave the other man a cool glare. Gordon had done that on purpose. Mentioned “the young lady” in front of Harrison to clue him in on the situation.

  Gordon gave Cyrus a bland shrug, completely unaffected by the disapproval. “I’m sorry, sir. Shouldn’t I have mentioned it?”

  Harrison sat up straighter, his eyes widening in obvious surprise. “What? There’s a young lady?”

  “This is not a topic for public conversation,” Cyrus said, his voice clipped in the way it always was when he was uncomfortable and trying to regain control of a situation.

  “I’m not going to tell anyone if you don’t want me to,” Harrison replied, his face changing slightly. “But there’s seriously a young lady? Who is she?”

  “I would rather not say. It is not a… long-term situation.” Cyrus chose his words very carefully. “I was told to relax and enjoy myself this month, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  It took a minute for Harrison to process everything, but when he did, he gave a little nod. He’d always been thoughtful and discreet, and he obviously wasn’t going to push the topic at the moment. He finally asked softly, “So everything is all right?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  Harrison glanced up at Gordon, who was lingering.

  Gordon gave a brief nod. “It is, sir.”

  Gordon’s answer obviously was the one that convinced and relieved Harrison. He leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee. Then he finally gave a little smile. “You should definitely give her the sweet peas.”

  ***

  By lunch time, Brie was on a rather foolish, romantic high.

  She’d met up with Cyrus midmorning, and since it was her turn to plan the day’s excursions, they’d strolled through a number of little craft shops and a huge flea market. They’d had a great time, discussing the merchandise and laughing about the tackier items. Cyrus kept buying her pretty things. Since they were all inexpensive and since he was so discreet and unassuming about it, she hadn’t had the heart to object.

  So she had a bag full of lovely little trinkets, a pretty bouquet of flowers he’d given her, and an excellent lunch of chicken salad in the most delicious puff pastry she’d ever eaten.

  With the addition of an excellent white wine and the admiring look in Cyrus’s eyes, she was well on her way to pure giddiness.

  She couldn’t help but notice that something had been distracting Cyrus during lunch though.

  “Is something wrong?” she finally asked out of the blue.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then why do you keep glaring at the table?”

  Cyrus gave a soft chuckle, his expression softening. “I hadn’t realized I was glaring.”

  “Well, you were.”

  He cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment. Then he reached over to the vase on the table—in which were stuffed an ungainly arrangement of carnations and baby’s breath. He pulled out all but one sprig of the baby’s breath and all the red carnations, leaving only two smaller pink-orange ones.

  She stared in surprise as he calmly dropped the flowers he’d removed on an adjacent table. “That hideous arrangement was annoying me,” he murmured, amused irony clear in his voice.

  She burst into laughter at his actions and his expression.

  His eyes narrowed as in mock reproach. “Laugh if you must, but isn’t that so much better?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, vaguely amazed at how much lovelier the whole table looked with the few simple flowers left in the vase. “It’s much better. You’re kind of a perfectionist, aren’t you?”

  He arched his eyebrows as he took a sip of wine. “I believe those who know me would say that the word perfectionist doesn’t quite do me justice.”

  “You’re not that bad,” she said, speaking honestly in response to his admission. “You haven’t seemed unreasonable at all this week.”

  “I haven’t been myself this week. Usually I hold the world to unreasonably high standards.” He let out a breath, conveying an emotion she couldn’t quite read. “And I hold myself to the highest standards of all.”

  “I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” she said. “I think more men should hold themselves to higher standards.”

  His eyes returned to her face, his brief mood transforming into interest. “Are you speaking of any man in particular?”

  “My ex-boyfriend. Chase.”

  “He didn’t hold himself to high standards?”

  “He didn’t hold himself to any standards at all.”

  “How long were you with him?”

  “Almost six months.” She sighed, feeling bleak and stupid for a moment at the memory of that six-month error in judgment on her part.

  “That’s a long time to be with a man with no standards at all.” Cyrus’s voice was soft, cautious, as if he were being careful in how he approached the conversation.

  It was clear he wanted to know about Chase though, and Brie wanted to tell him—even though it would make her look as stupid as she’d ever been.

  “It was a mistake from the very beginning. He… Well, I guess he knew all the right lines. And he knew how to use his looks and attitude. I thought he was sexy and exciting, but all he was really was selfish. He took what he wanted from the relationship without really offering me anything in return. And I went along with it—because anytime I tried to express my unhappiness, he would somehow charm me into forgetting it.” She stared down at her nearly empty plate. “I believe in forgiveness and second chances—I really do—but he totally took advantage of that characteristic in me. I can’t believe I was so stupid. I mean, I don’t think I’m a stupid woman, but I sure was with him.”

  “So how did it end?” Cyrus asked.

  “I finally just came to my senses and saw how he was treating me. He didn’t cheat on me—at least as far as I know—but he did exactly what he wanted without thought to what was good for me. He lived in my apartment, letting me pay for pretty much everything. He stayed out late with his friends and never told me when he was coming home. He would… he would wake me up in the middle of the night to have sex even though he knew I had to get up in a few hours for work. He was just… selfish. And a superficial sexiness just doesn’t go far enough to mask that kind of treatment for long.”

  “No. I would think not.” Cyrus was scowling very slightly as if he were trying to rein in his negative opinion of Chase.

  “So I kicked him out. It was hard. Ending a relationship that lasts so long is always hard, and he just made it worse. He wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept trying to get me to take him back. My brother finally had to threaten him with a restraining order if he didn’t back off. It was terrible. But I felt so much better about myself an
d about the world after it was over.”

  “It sounds like you’re much better without him.”

  “No question about that.”

  They smiled at each other across the table, and Brie felt like Cyrus had heard and understood her again—which was something that had never happened with Chase.

  “What about you?” she asked after a minute.

  “What about me?”

  “Have you had any really bad relationships?”

  “Not like that. I haven’t dated much at all for a long time.”

  “Why not?”

  He was an attractive, intelligent man, and he clearly had enough money to attract a number of women even if he hadn’t had other things going for him. She just couldn’t understand why women weren’t beating down his door.

  “My life has been about working for a really long time.”

  This seemed to match with her impressions of him. He was obviously taking a break this week, but he seemed like the kind of man who would intently focus on his job—whatever that job happened to be. “Have you ever been married?”

  “Yes. When I was very young.”

  She wasn’t surprised. A man his age would likely to have been married before. “What happened?”

  “She left me.”

  “Why?”

  “She said it was because I was too invested in my work, and there was some truth to that. But more than that, I think she just wanted someone other than me.” He glanced away as if seeing something that wasn’t actually in the room. “The marriage ended when I was twenty-six, so it was a long time ago.”

  “And you haven’t been married since?”

  “No.” His eyes slanted up to her face as if checking her expression. “I did date on and off through my thirties and forties. But then I had… a lot of family issues to deal with, and then my work started growing more demanding. I just didn’t have time or energy… or the will to focus on another relationship. My life felt full enough without it.”

  “Do you still feel that way?”

  “I don’t know.” His shoulders rose and fell in a long breath. “Honestly, I’ve felt at loose ends lately. My nephews have all married and are starting families of their own. My sister has a huge social circle here in Savannah. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been… left behind.”