“You haven’t confused me. In fact, I’m betting there’s no other woman quite like you out there in the whole world.”
“My goodness. If you keep complimenting me like that, I won’t be able to walk back into the house. My head won’t fit through the door.”
He chuckled, his cheeks heating with chagrin. “You’ve driven me to an embarrassing ledge where I’m nearly spouting poetry about you, and I have no idea why.”
She jokingly batted her lashes. “I have that effect on men.”
“On me especially.”
He pressed her into the bench, and she was convinced yet again that he would kiss her. If he tried, she’d decided to allow it. She suspected it would be shockingly pleasant.
But he eased away and asked, “How do you occupy yourself in the day?”
“I suppose like every young lady. I eat, read, shop, and write letters.”
“Do you ride?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
She was actually a very nimble equestrian. During lean times, mostly when Harry had been hiding from creditors or the law, they’d traveled with circuses where she’d learned all sorts of tricks and acrobatics.
She could ride better than any man she’d ever met, and she could even accomplish it hanging upside down!
“Will you ride with me tomorrow?” he asked. “Where are you staying? I’ll fetch you at two. How does that sound?”
He rested a hand on her waist, his dazzling eyes searching hers, as if he could dig out the secrets buried there. She was enthralled by that hand, and she held herself very still, reveling in a pretty picture of the liaison they could pursue. They’d socialize in the afternoons and dance at balls in the evenings. They’d chat and dine and grow very close. It would be precious and delightful, and she’d fall madly in love with him. Then . . .
He’d propose an illicit alliance, and she’d refuse. He’d start nagging and pressuring her, and her refusals would be more strident. Eventually, they’d quarrel, and he’d leave in a huff. She’d never see him again, and the loss would spur her to pine and regret for months afterward.
Or, more likely, she’d begin to see him at various soirees, and he’d have a beautiful woman on his arm, one who’d been decadent enough to latch onto him when he’d suggested his indecent association.
She’d be crushed by waves of jealousy, would pine and regret for months afterward over that ending too. So, no, an affair was impossible.
“I’m sorry, but I’m busy tomorrow,” she told him.
“How about the next day? Or will you always be busy?”
“It’s not in the cards for us to be friends.”
“Are you sure about that? It seems to me that there’s a remarkable attraction stirring between us.”
“I won’t deny that there’s a powerful impulse swirling, but if I jumped into a relationship with you, there’s only one role that could open up for me. And it’s not a role I would ever play.”
“It’s merely a ride in the park.”
She tsked with exasperation. “It would turn out to be much more than that.”
He pondered, then nodded. “You’re probably right. I haven’t offended you, have I?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“I’m not usually so inept in my banter.”
“You’ve been stuck on a navy ship for years,” she said, “so you’ve been surrounded by men. You’re finding your land legs and having to mingle with females again. You’ll get your conversations up to speed in no time at all.”
“I’m completely bowled over by you, but I can’t figure out why. I’m behaving like an idiot.”
“I think you’re very sweet.”
“Sweet! Gad. I really must be out of practice with my seduction skills.”
She reached out and laid a palm on his cheek. It was a brazen, shameless gesture, but she was anxious to touch him just once. By declining his invitation, she was suffering from the oddest perception that she was making a huge mistake.
If Harry could speak from the grave, he’d tell her to leap in with both feet. He’d tell her Luke was precisely the kind of man to bring her whatever she required, but she and Harry had never shared the same view about romance. She simply wasn’t the person Harry had always hoped, just as she couldn’t be the person Luke would ultimately demand she be.
“Are your eyes blue?” she asked.
“Yes. Are yours?”
“Yes.” She pulled away and stood. “Are you ready to head back to the party? Will you walk with me?”
“Would you be terribly upset if I admit I can’t return just yet? I’d like to tarry a while longer. I feel better when I can look out at the water.”
“You sailor, you.” She smiled, an enormous wave of affection rocking her. “Nothing much ever upsets me, and I’m not a trembling girl in need of an escort. I’m totally capable of walking to the house on my own.”
“Do you imagine we’ll ever see each other again?”
“It’s entirely possible—if you keep attending these over-crowded, tedious parties.”
She nearly invited him to her performance at the theater the following night, but she managed to bite her tongue. If she encouraged him in the least, he’d badger her about an illicit liaison. It was madness to contemplate it for a single second.
He was still seated on the bench, not rising as was appropriate after she’d stood. He clasped her hand and linked their fingers as if they were adolescent sweethearts.
“I’ll miss you after you leave,” he absurdly said.
“I will convince myself that’s true.”
“I don’t suppose you’d tell me where you live.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Why must we have good ideas? I find them dreadfully boring myself.”
“I don’t.”
“Then how about if you give me some hint of how to contact you?”
“It’s not a good idea either.”
“I’ve stated my opinion about good ideas. Let’s do something wild.”
“My whole life has been wild, so I make it a specific point to never have any out-of-the-ordinary events happen. I seek tedium at all costs.”
His torrid gaze swept down her torso. “I don’t believe you.”
She drew away,
