Did she have an option? She eyed his arm warily, rather as if it were a snake poised to strike. “What is this about, Shelbourne?”
If he was attempting to charm her so he could have her in his bed each night, he was about to be disappointed. She had already decided earlier she would summon every bit of resistance she possessed to harden herself against him tonight and every other night for the foreseeable future.
“This is about dinner,chérie.”
“Dinner?”
“Indeed, a repast involving multiple courses during which one sits at a table and consumes—”
“I am aware of what dinner is,” she interrupted, frowning at him. Where was his levity and lightness emerging from? “I was not asking you what it is, but rather why you are here for dinner this evening when you have been absent thus far. What are your intentions?”
He caught her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow when she still hesitated. “My intentions are to dine with my lovely wife, and that cannot happen if we remain here all evening, arguing over the definition of dinner.”
“I was hardly arguing,” she grumbled.
He made a noise of subtle disagreement in his throat as he led her into the dining room. “Hmm. If you insist,chérie.”
The table was laden with three overflowing vases of white roses. They caught her attention immediately not just because they were beautiful and unusual, an extensive showing when there were no guests in attendance. But rather, it was because white roses were her favorite flower. She had told him so once, long ago.
Surely he could not remember?
He escorted her to her seat, seeing her comfortably settled. And just when she supposed he would put some much-needed distance between them and go to his own place setting, he leaned toward her, inhaling swiftly.
“You smell particularly divine, my dear.” His hot lips glided over the shell of her ear.
And just like that, every part of her went weak and wild for him. So much for her dratted defenses. He had torn them down as if they were fashioned of clay rather than stone.
“Thank you.” And to the devil with her voice for being so breathless.
He moved away, taking his heat with him. She tamped down an errant surge of disappointment. What had she expected, that he would kiss her senseless before the footman standing in attendance?
Shelbourne seated himself and the first course arrived. The soup wasChiffonade de Pintade, and the rich scent of thyme and guinea fowl reached her nose as the serving was laid before her. The servants disappeared from the room, following Shelbourne’s nod, leaving them alone.
She was acutely aware they were the only people in the chamber. Quiet descended as they began to consume the dish, which was quite excellent. But whereas the tranquility had not disturbed her before when she had been alone to dine, it seemed to scream now. His presence was magnified, taking up all the empty space between them.
Making her uncomfortably aware of him.
And warm.Good heavens, her dratted palms were at it again.
“You are dressed in my favorite shade of blue,” he said into the silence.
Surprised, she glanced down at her bodice. One of the few pieces she had brought from New York City, it was fashioned of silk satin, with blonde lace adorning the bodice and dripping from the sleeves. It happened to be one of her favorites, and she had worn it in an effort to lift her spirits.
Not supposing he would be here, staring at her across the table, unfairly handsome and everything she wanted but dared not trust. This charming, almost sweet Shelbourne was an illusion, and she knew it.
He had been tender and charismatic before, and look at where that had landed her.
She settled her soup spoon down. “I did not wear it knowing it was your preferred shade. Indeed, I was not aware youhada favorite shade of blue.”
“I do.” He took a sip from the glass before him, the contents of which were clear—water, it would seem. She had failed to take note that he had turned down the offer of wine. “Your eyes.”
Something inside her kindled into a flame.
She was burning.
This was torture.
“Flattery shall get you nowhere, Shelbourne,” she warned, before turning her attention wholly upon her soup.
