Three Wishes (Page 19)

Three Wishes(19)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“I didn’t thank you,” she said to the steps, interrupting his thoughts.

“Pardon?”

She twisted again, just her head, and lifted her eyes to him.

“For yesterday, for saving my… well, me… from the purse snatcher. I didn’t say thank you.”

He had no response so he didn’t make one.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgement of her gratitude and fought back his pleasant reaction to her quiet words.

“It was very heroic,” she told him.

“It was hardly heroic,” he replied dismissively.

This put a crack in her contemplative mood and the corners of her lips moved up marginally.

“Considering there were approximately three thousand witnesses and not a single one lifted a finger to help, I’d say it was heroic.”

“I’d say three thousand is a bit of an exaggeration,” he returned, his tone light and faintly teasing. He found he was completely incapable of not responding to her small smile.

His words garnered him a full one at the same time her eyes brightened and he was momentarily transfixed.

“Is it an exaggeration? It felt like three thousand people,” she noted and leaned back, putting her hands behind her on the stoop and casually crossing her legs. The hem of her skirt rode up her knee exposing the barest hint of thigh and Nate felt his body heat at the sight of it. “I felt like a street performer, like you and I should have passed the hat around after we were done. I could swear some of them even took pictures.”

He felt his own lips twitching as her mood melted and she introduced him to her dry humour.

“They did,” he informed her.

She shook her head and laughed softly, a sound he liked so much, it felt almost as if it was a physical touch.

“People,” she muttered, the word was loaded with meaning and Nate found it adorable. She likely had absolutely no idea what people were capable of, what depths they could sink to. And then he found he wished, uncharacteristically rather fervently, that she never discovered that awful fact.

She sighed deeply and moved her head to gaze across the street.

“Even though I don’t know but a few souls in there, I should go back in,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

They definitely should go back in.

One more minute out here alone with her and he was going to forget his firm resolution to steer clear of her. He was going to forget a lot of things. Things he’d not allowed himself to forget for sixteen years.

He flicked his cigarette into the gutter and he noticed her body immediately stilled at this act.

Then she did something extraordinary.

“You just littered!” she accused hotly, jumping gracefully to her feet, glaring at the smouldering cigarette butt like it was about to explode and take out half of the street in a blaze of fiery destruction when it did.

Then her glare turned to him.

He hadn’t a word to say in response. She was, of course, right.

She was also somehow even more imposingly beautiful when she was angry.

“Fazire says you shouldn’t litter. He says humans litter too much.” While talking, she had turned and was stomping down the steps in agitation. Nate watched in stupefied fascination as she marched straight to his cigarette end and leaning down slowly she snatched it out of the gutter and held it between her thumb and forefinger like it was abhorrent, which in her hands, it was. “He says humans should take better care of where they live or we won’t have it very long.” She leaned forward and smashed it out against one of the steps, giving him a tantalising glimpse at more of her cle**age.

“Who’s Fazire?” Nate asked and watched as she straightened and he saw the flush of ire on her pink cheeks and he found his resolution of earlier this evening slipping another hefty notch after the notch it had slipped while seeing her cle**age, the other one that had slipped upon witnessing her smile and the other one that had slipped upon hearing her say “thank you”.

She was looking around for somewhere to deposit the cigarette.

“He’s a family friend. He helped raise me,” she explained distractedly.

“Lily, give it to me,” Nate said softly and her eyes came to him and focussed. He’d stretched out his hand and she walked up the steps, stopped two down from the top where he stood and then she deposited the remains of the cigarette in his palm.

After her rather vain attempt to save the earth by cleaning up his lone cigarette end, she seemed to realise belatedly how bizarre her behaviour and her words were. This realisation caused her to look hilariously mortified.

“I think,” she whispered, putting her eyes on anything but him, “that might have been a little rude.” She said it as if rudeness was the worst of sins.

“No more rude than my thoughtless participation in the destruction of the planet,” he drawled, definitely teasing this time.

Her eyes flew to his and at one look at him her chagrin instantly faded and she laughed, not soft or low, but with great feeling and it was so catching, he found himself grinning at her.

And in that moment, his resolution was completely forgotten.

“Yes, true,” she was no longer laughing but her eyes were still dancing, “you are definitely ruder than me. You should feel ashamed, Nate, very ashamed.”

He asked before he could stop himself, before he could start thinking or remembering all the reasons why he should not, “Are you staying tomorrow?”.

“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head quizzically, her gorgeous eyes still smiling.

“Tomorrow. Are you staying with Laura and Victor another day?”

“I…” she hesitated, watching him, “I don’t think so. I’ve taken too much advantage as it is. Your um… parents are very kind but fish and guests stink after three days.”

“What?” He no longer had to stop himself from thinking because all he could think was that had no idea what she was talking about.

“Something my grandmother used to say, fish and guests stink after three days. Her way of saying not to wear out your welcome when you’re a guest.” She alighted the last two steps, stood in front of him and tilted her head up to look at him. “What I’m saying is that it’s time for me to go home.”

“You’ve only been here two days,” he informed her helpfully, smiling into her upturned face. Something changed in hers as she caught his smile and for some reason this caused another blush to creep into her cheeks.