“Why did you send the lieutenant after me?”
The lines of worry around his eyes eased. “Why do you think?” Though his face remained solemn, he gave her a halfhearted wink and strode into the house.
She stayed outside until the mosquitos buzzed in her ear. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Christian and his almost-kiss. Her uncle and Thorne. Her parents.
The dull throb lingering behind her brows pulsed. So much had happened today. Was it too much to hope that a good sleep would fix everything?
Inside, the halls were dark. The entire household had retired early. No, a light came from the crack in the study door. Though she wanted to press her uncle further, she wasn’t sure her head could handle any more surprises.
So, Samantha climbed the stairs and locked the door behind her. Anna had left her nightgown draped on her bed. She began to unbutton her blouse but paused when her curtains flapped in the breeze. Her heart gave a little lurch before she remembered leaving the balcony doors open earlier when she changed.
Walking over, she began to close them. Before they clicked shut, she glanced across the field toward Christian’s estate. A light twinkled on in a distant window and she caught her breath. He was home.
She pushed the doors open and walked out into the night. Leaning against the warm stone of the banister, she closed her eyes and sighed. Every time she closed them, she saw him.
Tomorrow, he’d sail away. Who knew when, if, their paths would cross again. She’d seen his look of resignation at the dock when she told him not to call her Red anymore.
Pain radiated through her chest, the sharp ache making her gasp. She pressed a hand there.
Steer your own course.
How? Living a life on shore was akin to asking a fish to survive on dry land. Easy for him to say. He would get on a ship and sail out of her life tomorrow. Would continue living his life. While she languished.
The blasted man had nearly kissed her. Her lips fairly burned at the memory of his breath on them.
A walking contradiction. That was what he was. Hot one minute, cold the next. Her heart beat a painful rhythm. If his first officer hadn’t come, what would have happened? Would Christian have cut it off at a kiss and said goodbye? Or...
Samantha opened her eyes. Stared at the flickering light throughthe trees. She could still find out. A tingle ran though her limbs. It would be so easy to walk over, knock on his door. With a shaky laugh, she turned and stepped inside.
Nonsense.
She might never see him again. The thought sent a new ache spearing through her chest and she pressed her eyes shut. New Orleans might as well be on the other side of the world.
One more night. What she wouldn’t do for the chance to sear one last memory in her mind of him. Of them. Her breath caught in her throat and she spun back to the railing.
Reckless.
She lifted a leg over it.
Reckless.
Eased her body along the wall.
Dropping to the ground, she hurried through the garden and slipped through a side gate. This time, she cut through the field, her boots pressing into damp earth, grass swishing around her knees. Darkness cloaked her and she blinked up at the black clouds covering the moon.
Lightning flashed far away and the soft rumble of thunder rolled over her. At the edge of the field, she paused at the road. His drive lay around the corner. A wild thrill raced through her as she jogged toward it.
She passed beneath a towering oak, heart hammering against her ribs. As she approached the house, instead of the urge to flee like last time, an invisible thread tugged her forward. At the bottom of the steps, she swallowed.
This was it. Her last chance to turn back. She took a step, then faltered. What if he turned her away? The door suddenly seemed impossibly far. Would a servant open it instead? Servants talked.
She groaned. Reckless indeed. She couldn’t barge through his front door. Not without leaving her reputation in tatters. With a sigh, sheretreated to the garden and sank onto a bench. Another roll of thunder. Closer this time. If she left now, she could beat the storm home.
She lifted her gaze to the lone window awash in light. His room. An ancient oak tree stretched its limbs toward the house, as if trying to push the walls down by brute strength. A shadow passed across the window and her heart caught.
If she climbed into the tree, would she be able to see him? One last look. Climb up. Climb down. Easy.
Pushing her hair over one shoulder, she approached the tree. One branch hung low and she swung up onto it. She had to reach high to get ahold of the next and her muscles screamed in protest as she slowly lifted herself up. One more branch and she sat level to his window.
