Emma

Chapter Sixteen.

"Still no drinks?"

I nod negatively and remain seated on the couch, staring at one of Thomas' painting while he pours himself a drink. The painting is him, staring at me, pondering. On what? Why does he always look like he's thinking?

"Why Thomas?"

He sits on the chair on my left, and I lay my eyes on him when I notice he is gazing at me.

"Why are you always thinking?"

Thomas smirks and takes a sip of his gin.

"What are you always thinking about?"

"Business," he answers.

I sigh and stand up. I walk around the room, gently touching with the tips of my fingers the books on the bookshelves. Although, my eyes find their way back on the painting.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Of what?" Asks Thomas, his gaze on his portrait.

I walk up to him and stand behind him. "Scheming"

"I don't scheme. I plan," he answers.

I scoff. I put my hand on the back of his chair.

"You hungry?" Asks Thomas as he puts the glass on the table in front of him.

"No. Are you?"

He turns his head to me, his gaze focused on mine. "No"

I smile and walk around his chair to come in front of him. Instead of sitting on the couch, I take off my shoes and sit on the floor, my dress falling like an open rose, and I rest my arms on the table.

"You called John this afternoon, for a family business matter," I say. "The man you sent to get him was quite charming I must say"

"Charlie?"

"Yes, him. He seemed shy, maybe even impressed by me, and I found his reaction very sweet"

Thomas scoffs. "Well, Charlie ain't a sweet one"

"And, are you?"

"Am I what?" Asks Tommy.

I lay my head on my hands while laying my eyes on Thomas, a smile on my lips. "A sweet one?"

For a few minutes, he remains silent. I can almost see the thinking behind his eyes, his brain always working, but his lips aren't moving. He isn't saying anything. Why do I find that so irritating and at the same time a bit interesting?

"I am no gentleman, Emma"

"I wasn't asking if you were, Thomas"

Tommy stands up and stretches out his hand to me. I accept it and he helps me get on my feet.

"It's late. I don't want you to miss your train"

My hand in his, Thomas leads us out of his library and to the hall. We climb the stairs, just like last time, and when we pass in front of his late wife's portrait, a shiver runs up my spine. Her eyes are following us; me, until we get to the first floor.

When we enter the same bedroom from last time, I let go of Thomas' hand to get to the bed before him. I sit on it while he walks up to me and when he stands in front of me, his legs touching mine, my lips turns into a smile.

"Charlie said I looked like an angel," I murmur.

Thomas chuckles. He runs his tongue on his lower lip before looking back at me. "Charlie talks a lot"

"Don't you think I'm an angel, Thomas?"

"No"

I frown. Then Thomas leans over, his face just a few centimetres away from mine. "Because an angel would know better than to mingle with the devil," he says.