Madison’s heart couldn’t beat louder or faster if it tried.
His blatent stare, under dark rimmed eyelashes was aparent, even to her, and she felt a flush creep to her glowing skin. “Thank you Byron” she added graciously. One thing she did learn about manners is to never put off a compliment when one was given, and especially as it was pleasing to her.
A snowflake stuck to her lashes as the heavens had literally poured heaps of the fluffy cold stuff down on them, the wind blowing the snowflakes lazily about in torrents and swirls. It was a scene that could only have come from a postcard – made reality.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful it was” Madison murmered appreciatively, and with Byron’s help, loaded her expensive luggage into the back of a taxi; and she even paid the taxi driver in advance with the promise of a rather nice tip at the end if he managed to wrangle them through the congested streets in an expediant fashion to Byron’s home.
Madison couldn’t have mistaked it for anything other then what it was. It smelled of Byron, or perhaps Byron took in the wonderful scents of the leather books around his home, combined with a wonderfully clean scent that she just wasn’t able to figure out. Sure, she’d peeked at his soap before, and sniffed it, but that wasn’t the source of his particular scent.
The walk was nice and clear, his lawn immaculate as ever. Everything was as it should be, in perfect order.
That was one thing that Madison could comment on; Byron did everything to near-perfection. If he did something, he did it almost obessively well.
Madison was “home”