Christina smiled over the irritation she'd caught in Lyon 's voice. He sounded like a little boy in need of assurance. She sat down in the center of the gold brocade settee so Lyon couldn't sit beside her, motioned for him to take the chair adjacent to her, and then said, 'Of course you're pleasing. Do not let my aunt's opinions upset you. Though it is rude of me to admit, your feelings are surely at stake, and so I will confess that my aunt doesn't really like too many people.'
'You mistake my comment,' Lyon drawled out. 'I don't give a damn what your aunt thinks of me. I just find it puzzling that I…'
She was giving him a wary look, and he paused in his reply to change the topic. 'Are you unhappy I called?' he asked, frowning over his own question.
Christina shook her head. 'Good day to you,' she suddenly blurted, trying to remember her manners. It was a problem for her, of course, because Lyon was looking wonderfully handsome again. He was dressed in buckskin riding pants that were the color of a young deer. The material clung to his powerful thighs. His shirt was white, probably made of silk, Christina thought, and partially covered by a forest-in-autumn-colored brown jacket that nicely matched the color of his shiny Hessian boots.
She realized she was staring at him, yet decided to excuse her ill conduct because he was looking at her with much the same intensity.
'I like looking at you.'
'I like looking at you, too,' Lyon answered with a chuckle.
Christina folded her hands in her lap. 'Was there a specific reason for your sporadic visitation?' she asked.
'Sporadic? I don't understand…'
'Spontaneous,' Christina said hastily.
'I see.'
'Well, sir? Was there a specific reason?'
'I don't remember,' Lyon answered, grinning at her.
She gave him a hesitant smile back. 'Would you care for refreshment?'
'No, thank you,' Lyon answered.
'Well, then, kindly explain what it is you don't remember,' she instructed.
She gave him an expectant look, as if what she'd just requested was the most logical thing in the world. 'How can I explain what it is I don't remember?' he asked. 'You're back to making little sense again, aren't you?'
His smile could melt snow. Christina was having difficulty sitting still. All she wanted to think about was the way Lyon had kissed her, and all she wanted to do was find a way to get him to kiss her again.
It was, of course, an unladylike thought. 'The weather has turned warm, hasn't it? Some people say it's the warmest autumn in many years,' she added, staring intently down at her hands.
Lyon smiled over her obvious nervousness. He slowly stretched out his long legs, settling in for a confrontation. It was going to be easy work finding out his answers if Christina remained this ill at ease.
The tips of Lyon 's boots touched the hem of her gown. She immediately scooted back against the settee, glanced down at the floor, and let out a small gasp. 'Would you care for refreshments?' she asked in a surprisingly loud voice, jerking her gaze back to him. She wiggled to the edge of the settee again.
She was as skittish as an abandoned kitten. 'You've already asked me that question,' Lyon reminded her. 'No, I don't care for refreshments. Do I make you uncomfortable?' he added, grinning enough to let her know he'd be happy if he did.
'Why would you think that?' Christina asked.
'You're sitting on the edge of the cushion, looking ready to run at any second, my sweet.'
'My name is Christina, not sweet,' she said. 'And of course I'm uncomfortable. You'd make a buffalo nervous.'
'A buffalo?'
'You'd make anyone nervous when you frown,' Christina explained with a dainty shrug.
'Good.'
'Good? Why, Lyon, you do say the oddest things.'
'I say…' Lyon shouted with laughter. 'Christina, you haven't made any sense since the moment I met you. Every time I see you I promise myself I'll get a normal conversation out of you, and then-'
' Lyon, you're being fanciful,' Christina interrupted. 'This is only the second-no, the third time I've seen you, if you count two times in one evening-'
'You're doing it again,' Lyon said.
'Doing what?'
'Trying to push me off center.'
'I couldn't push you anywhere. You're too big. I know my strengths, Lyon.'
'Do you take everything in literal meaning?'
'I don't know. Do I?'
'Yes.'
'Perhaps you're the one who has trouble making sense. Yes,' Christina added with a quick nod. 'You see, Lyon, you don't ask logical questions.'
She laughed when he glared. 'Why are you here?' she asked again.
She was back to staring at her hands again. A faint blush covered her cheeks. She was suddenly embarrassed about something.
He didn't have any idea what or why. That didn't surprise him, though. The unusual was becoming commonplace where Christina was concerned. Lyon thought he was ready for just about anything now. He was confident he'd have her game found out before the end of their visit.
'I really do know why you came to see me,' Christina whispered timidly.
'Oh?' Lyon asked. 'What is that reason?'
'You like being with me,' she answered, daring a quick look up to see his reaction. When he didn't seem irritated by her honesty, she warmed to her topic.
' Lyon? Do you believe in destiny?'
Oh, dear, he was looking confused again. Christina let out a long sigh. 'Well, you do admit you like being with me, don't you?' she coached.
'Yes, but God only knows why,' Lyon confessed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
'Yes, the Great Spirit does know why.'
'Great Spirit?' Lyon shook his head. 'Lord, I'm starting to sound like an echo. All right, I'll ask. Who is this Great Spirit?'
'God, of course. Different cultures have their own names for the All Powerful, Lyon. Surely you know that. You aren't a heathen, are you?' She sounded quite appalled at that possibility.
'No, I'm not a heathen.'
'Well, you needn't get irritated with me. I only asked.'
He stared at her a long, silent minute. Then he stood up. Before Christina knew what he was going to do, he'd pulled her up into his arms. He hugged her to him and rested his chin against the top of her head. 'I'm either going to strangle you or kiss you,' he announced. 'The choice is yours.'
Christina sighed. 'I would prefer that you kiss me. But first, please answer my question, Lyon. It's important to me.'
'What question?'
'I asked you if you believed in destiny,' she said. She pulled away from him and looked up at his face. 'You really do have trouble holding a thought, don't you?'
She had the gall to sound disgruntled. 'I don't have any trouble holding a thought,' he muttered.
Christina didn't look like she believed him. She was a witch, trying to cast her magical spell on him. Lyon felt as besotted as a silly, worthless fop and as puny as an infant when her gaze was directed on him so enchantingly.
'Well?'
'Well what?' Lyon asked. He shook his head over his ridiculous reaction to the nymph glaring up at him. A
