Page 19 of A Perilous Passion

She gazed up at him, her mind in a muddle. Why had he stopped kissing her?

“I wouldn’t have acknowledged you, but I feared you might make a scene. That wouldn’t do. Understand?”

She blinked. No, she didn’t understand.

“I seem to have silenced you.”

“What?” She finally came back to herself. “No, I was listening—honestly.”

And thinking about that kiss, and how good he smelled this close. All rainwater, sea salt, and freshly mown hay.

“Do you understand the kiss was necessary?”

She ran her fingers thoughtfully over her mouth and nodded dazedly. “Quite necessary,” she dreamily agreed.

Then words failed her again. It was far too hot in this dark, confined space, a miniature world containing just the two of them and the runnels of rain that found their way through the thick leaves.

“Miss Allston?”

A world in which she could be kissed thoroughly by an experienced man and no one need ever know…

“Charlotte?”

“I beg your pardon, my lord? I mean Mr. Seabourne. Oh, hang it. Whoever you are.”

His warm breath wafted her hair. “It wasn’t too clever to shout ‘my lord,’ after I swore you to silence last night. Please, I’m Mr. Seabourne, except when we’re alone. Completely alone and out of earshot of anyone else.” He leaned in closer to her ear and murmured, “When we’re alone, you must call me Rafe.”

She breathed in deeply, drowning in his delicious masculine scent. “And you must call me Charlotte.”

She felt him smile against her temple. “Charlotte,” he whispered. “Even so, I can’t be angry at you. You had every chance to share your knowledge of me with your friends, and you didn’t.”

She shook the tangled thoughts out of her head and came back to earth with a bump. “You were listening to us?”

“From outside the window. There’s a very convenient rhododendron—”

Not even a superlative kiss was enough to make up for such cheek. Annoyance prickled up her spine. “What right do you have to listen to my private conversations with my friends?” she demanded. “To spy on us?”

He recoiled at her use of the word. “I prefer to call it information gathering,” he said stiffly. “But that wasn’t what I was doing just now. I was checking you weren’t being watched.”

“But I was being watched. By you!”

“Please keep your voice down. Remember our situation. If you’d just let me explain, without interruption…” In a softer tone, he said, “But before I do, I want to thank you for defending me, and not simply accepting what the entire world believes—that I’m a coward.”

She was in no mood to be thanked. How horrible that he’d been listening to her private conversation! She ground out, “One might be tempted to think you are a coward, when all you seem to do is hide yourself away.”

He straightened. “That’s unfair, especially coming from an outspoken chit who does nothing but sit around all day sewing and musing about who’s available for marriage.”

“It’s raining,” she replied indignantly. “I couldn’t go out. Believe me, my life is far more interesting than that.”

He threw up his hands and appeared to rein in his temper. “Come,” he said after taking a deep breath. “Let’s not be at daggers drawn. I want to make amends.”

Her unruly mind immediately shot back to that kiss. He’d used what must be the flimsiest excuse for kissing anyone that had ever been dreamed up. Was that also what he had in mind for “amends”?

Before she could find out, she quickly said, “In that case, explain to me what you’re involved in that makes you so secretive.”

He regarded her for a long moment, as if actually considering her demand.

To her shock, at length he said, “Very well. If you swear you won’t tell a living soul what I’m about to divulge.”