The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 291) Charming Look
The anxiety between Lyla and Crispin is fierce as he takes the towel from her. His hand touches hers during this slow exchange and she feels a tingle, much as she did when they touched on the street in Madrid. Once again, Crispin kneels down in front of her and speaks as he is dabbing up the spill.
“One must do all they can to protect what they consider to be unique, exquisite, and dear to them.” He looks up at her for a mere second then back down at the floor as he continues to dab and push the debris together into a pile. “Yes, you are correct.” She says with a soft shaky voice.
Crispin keeps his head down and continues to work away as Lyla stands there in silence unsure of what she is supposed to do. Finally, he stands up holding the broken pieces of the vase in his left hand, the flowers in his right. Lyla looks at the shards of porcelain then slowly her gaze moves up his arm making eye contact with him. They stand there, completely quiet and without expression, for several seconds.
“If I knew you didn’t like single roses I could have ordered a different bouquet.” His expression is serious but soon a slight grin begins to appear. It is a charming look, not one of secrets or hidden agendas, but one of kindness.
“Oh no, these are from you? I had no idea, I am so sorry. Here, I’ll throw the broken pieces away and bring in another vase of water.” Lyla says quickly. Shaping her hands like a bowl, she holds them out in front of her. They are shaking terribly and before Crispin begins to tip the pieces into them, he places the bouquet of flowers on the small table. Reaching out, he cups his free hand around both of hers, as if to steady her nervousness.
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