He’d taken the stairs two at time. The desire to be alone with her banished all propriety and rational thought. The fact she had forgiven him for his stupid and asinine behavior stunned him. He lowered her until her dainty feet touched the floor; he closed the door behind them. Liv moved in a circle, taking in the room. She smiled. “Masculine and sturdy, much like you.” He did not feel particularly sturdy at the moment. Liv had spent the past three nights in the guest room down the hall. He’d instructed Hobson to place her there. He didn’t want her in his room, his private place—until now. He removed his coat, and she stepped forward to assist him. “I should shave, perform my ablutions. I am a damned mess,” he murmured. Liv laid his coat on the nearby leather settee. “I don’t know. I quite like seeing you disheveled and out of control. You did not answer my question. Where have you been?” He took her hand, and they sat on the edge of the bed. His thumb stroked the top of it, her skin soft to the touch.
