there now.’ They were turning into Berkeley Street, up the side of Devonshire House. ‘It seems we were fated to meet again,’ he added, almost to himself.
‘Yes,’ Maude agreed, striving for a tone of bright amusement at the coincidence.
‘One could almost say that passing the shop again this evening was an omen,’ Eden mused. They had reached the narrow alleyway that ran between the end of the Devonshire House garden boundary and the length of Lansdown House’s high wall. The lighting was poor there, contrasting to the open space of Berkeley Square a few yards ahead. ‘Do you know, I think I know what I want for my treat.’ He stopped and stepped into the mouth of the alley, almost too narrow for them to stand side by side.
‘You do?’ He was drawing her into his arms, bending his head until his mouth was just above hers.
‘I left that shop wishing I could kiss you.’
‘You have. Outside your office.’ It was an inelegant squeak, but the best she could manage.
‘It was hardly my best effort,’ Eden said thoughtfully. He lifted her veil back, then his hands bracketed her face, his thumbs caressing lightly against her cheeks.
‘Eden—we are on the street!’ Her breathing was all over the place and her hands, without any conscious volition, had come up to rest against his lapels.
‘Safest place,’ he said, sounding rather grim for a man about to kiss a woman. And then he kissed her and Maude stopped thinking about his tone of voice at all.
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