Antonia barely heard him. She blinked and returned to his face. “What’s that?”

His smile was teasing. Lord, he has a wickedly sensuous mouth. His bottom lip was especially plump and kissable. “I said that I should have asked you where you were staying when we were at SuperValu.”

Her brow shot upward. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I regretted not asking once I stepped outside. But I already gave you a pizza, so there was no need to be creepy.”

“Thank you for that,” she said evenly. Why did she sound so defensive? He was being nice and charming enough. She shook her head, the half beer seemed to make her a little foggy. “I’m sorry, I think I’m a little tired.”

He leaned forward and peered at her with a concerned expression. “That’s understandable,” he said. “Are you staying at the hotel next door?”

She sighed. “I couldn’t even swing that. I’m staying at the cottages across the street. Apparently, it’s just me and a literature professor named Byrnes.”

Aiden nodded. “Really?”

“I hope he’s a quiet neighbor,” Antonia continued. “I’ll bet he’s an old man who smokes pipes and reads...”

“Oscar Wilde?” Aiden tried.

She took another drink and nodded. “Exactly, Oscar Wilde.” She tried to focus her gaze on his beautiful face with his dark green eyes and their secretive humor, but it was becoming increasingly hard to do so.

“He probably teaches in tweed jackets with those elbow patches.”

Antonia grinned. “I think that’s the only way to teach literature,” she joked. “His students probably fall asleep.”

Aiden tipped his head and seemed to think about it. “I imagine you’re right. Although, you look like you’re about to fall asleep yourself.”

She glanced at the remainder of her beer. “I better get going,” she said, feeling self-conscious. “It’s getting late.” As she stood to her feet, the room spun slightly.

Aiden sprang from his seat to catch her by the elbow. “Whoa, nelly,” he said in a soothing tone. His hands, long-fingered and strong, held her steady as she swayed. “Let’s not have two drunken falls tonight.”

Antonia fought the urge to relax against his hard body, his heat battling against that of the fireplace. She blushed again. When she looked up, she saw the sharp planes of his face, shadows rising and falling with the flicker of the flames below. With those dark brows and glittery green eyes, he looked positively wicked. Aiden is a potential mistake. “I’m fine,” she whispered, trying her best not to smell him. Is that a mixture of bergamot and cedar?

“Of course you are,” he said, his voice husky and thick. “Let me help you across the street.”

Antonia straightened up and away from him. “I can manage,” she said with a confident smile. She did not want him coming back to her cottage. She didn’t want to make a mistake. “Really, I’m fine.”

He released her and stepped back. “Fair enough,” he said with a smile.