“Did you?” she asked.
Her voice was as unreadable as her eyes.
“While I was away from you I frequently thought about our time together on the ship,” he said. “I enjoyed it very much.” He paused. “Well, perhaps not those first few days when I was recovering from a gunshot wound. But aside from that—”
“I found our time together quite pleasant, as well,” she said quickly. “After I was assured that your wound would not become infected, of course.”
“I recovered from my wound because of you. I will never forget that.”
She clasped her gloved hands together very tightly and gave him a sharp, decidedly cross look.
“I do wish you would stop saying that,” she said. “Really, sir, things are bad enough as they are. If it’s all the same to you, I would prefer that you don’t add your sense of gratitude to the list of things I have to worry about. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”
Her flash of anger stunned him.
“You fault me for feeling grateful?” he asked.
“Yes. No. Oh, never mind.” She unlinked her fingers and waved the entire matter aside with a single, sweeping motion of one hand. “There is no point trying to explain things. At the moment we are caught up together in this tangle and we must contrive to get through it.” She sighed. “We do seem to be making a habit of jumping from one complicated situation to another, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “I do apologize for sticking you with this temporary engagement of ours. It was quite generous of you to suggest it, to say nothing of your determination to protect me from the Bridegroom. If you feel that you owe me anything at all for my assistance on St. Clare—which you don’t, I hasten to add—then rest assured you have repaid the debt. Assuming there was a debt. Which there was not.”
Anger slammed through him. A chill gripped his insides. He leaned forward and flattened both hands on the seat cushion behind her head, caging her.
“Let me make one thing very clear,” he said. “I do not want your gratitude, just as you aren’t keen on mine.”
There was a short, startled silence. But she made no move to escape him. Instead, she watched him closely for a moment and then she gave him a misty smile.
“I suppose we had better cease thanking each other for past and current favors or we shall both grow increasingly irritable and out of sorts,” she said. “That would not be helpful for our investigation. Strong emotions always cloud one’s thinking.”
He suddenly felt warm again.
“We are agreed, on that one point,” he said. “There will be no more expressions of gratitude. But I’m not so sure that I can promise not to experience some strong emotions when it comes to you. Every time I remember that kiss the last night on board, for example, I am unable to focus on anything else.”
“Benedict,” she whispered. She sounded breathless.
“Please tell me that you remember it, too.”
Her lips parted. For a moment she appeared bereft of speech. But he was not surprised when she recovered with relative speed. This was Amity, after all. She was never at a loss for words for long.
“I think of it often,” she assured him. “But I was not certain that you would also contemplate it from time to time.”
“I have relived that kiss every day and every night for the past month and a half. And every time I recall it, I want nothing more than to repeat the experience.”
Her eyes were as warm and sultry as the tropical nights in the Caribbean. She did not move.
“I have absolutely no objection to a second kiss,” she said.
“I cannot tell you how I have longed to hear you say that.”
With his hands still planted on either side of her head he leaned forward and brushed his mouth across hers. She parted her lips a little.
“Benedict,” she whispered.
He took his hands away from the seat cushion and shifted to sit beside her. Very deliberately he pulled her into his arms.
She came to him with a tiny, half-stifled gasp and a sweet enthusiasm that was more than gratifying—it reassured him as no words could have done. Her heated response made it clear that she had not forgotten the passion that had flared between them that last night.
