His face gentled. “Miss Larkin, you are so naïve,” he said softly. “You’ve got this irresistible, sunshiny quality that both fascinates and frustrates me. I don’t know what is in the water out there in Kansas, but you seem as innocent and trusting as a lone sunflower standing in a field, doomed to be pummeled to the ground in the first windstorm.”
“And you’re the complete opposite,” she said. “Like you were raised on a diet of skepticism and mistrust.”
His laughter began deep in his chest. “There’s probably some truth in that.” He shifted in his chair and pointed outside toward a small outbuilding a few acres away. “You see that shed?”
She nodded. With peeling paint and a sagging roof, the shed seemed out of place among the other well-tended buildings on the property.
“My father and I lived in that shed for three years after the war. The government burned our house, gutted the estate, seized our ships, and levied outrageous taxes on us. So, yes, to use your phrase, I have been raised on a diet of mistrust. It happened right over there in that dilapidated shed.”
He didn’t sound bitter. He sounded like he was trying to persuade her to his point of view, which would never happen. She was a patriotic American who was proud of the work the government did, and Gray was wasting time.
Her eyes traveled to the papaya tree a few yards away. “What does a papaya taste like?” she asked, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.
“Trying to divert the conversation?”
“Yes.”
“Fair enough.”
His smile returned as he plucked a papaya, then used a pocketknife to expertly peel and seed the fruit. The vibrant orange flesh looked so tender it made her mouth water. She leaned forward to enjoy the heady fragrance, and he passed her a wedge.
The fruit was mushy and mild and odd. She scrambled for something nice to say, but it turned out there was no need. Gray seemed to be reading her mind.
“The taste doesn’t live up to the color, does it?”
He promised that she’d like kiwi fruit better, and she did. After the kiwi, he shared a mango and an avocado with her. She’d heard of these fruits but never seen them before and was completely entranced. She fingered petals, sniffed blossoms, and tested the soil.
But when she asked to see the orchids, he smoothly diverted the conversation by showing her an African cherry orange and explaining how it differed from those grown in Florida. He explained the hot water piping system used to keep the tropical greenhouse warm and humid, and how he had transported the various plants during his long ocean voyages.
It felt like paradise, but she needed to search for Dr. Norwood’s orchid. “Can we see the orchid greenhouse?” she asked again late in the afternoon.
He glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s time to change for dinner.”
She helplessly looked down at her red gingham dress. “This is all I’ve got.”
“Perfectly fine,” he assured her. “I won’t change either. I’m just warning you, because for all his rowdy behavior, Luke is a sharp dresser and likely to be in black coat and tie. He enjoys the trappings of high society.” He stood and held out his arm. “Let’s head back to the farmhouse, where you can freshen up. We can discuss the orchid at dinner.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said, determined not to be discouraged by his suddenly somber mood.
Six
Gray leaned closer to the mirror as he dragged the straight-edged razor along his jawline. Shaving before dinner was a rarity for him, but he wanted to look respectable tonight. He had asked Mrs. Jenkins to pull out all the stops with the evening meal, using a variety of exotic spices he had traveled the world to collect. Normally they weren’t so formal out at the farmhouse, but he wanted this night to be special.
Why was he so fascinated with Annabelle Larkin? This sort of attraction was out of character for him, and he couldn’t pinpoint how she’d captured his interest with such ease. Maybe because she understood his work so well?
Gray snorted and almost cut himself. She didn’t understand him; they were polar opposites. He saw plants as a commodity upon which he’d built an empire and resurrected a family fortune. She liked plants because ... well, simply because she was one of those curious people who liked everything. Her naiveté was appalling. Fresh off the farm and with the wide-eyed innocence to prove it. He had no intention of letting her take so much as a leaf off his property.
At least not yet.
A knock on the door broke his concentration. He swiped theremaining soap from his face and answered it. Luke stepped inside, already dressed for dinner in a formal coat and starched collar.
“I wanted to pass on some family news,” he said casually.
Gray stiffened. This sort of statement was usually prelude to something bad. “What’s going on?” he asked tightly.
“Your baby sister has gotten herself a job,” Luke said.
It was hard to believe. If Caroline had run off with a foreign aristocrat or squandered a fortune to buy the Hope Diamond, he could believe it. But found a job?
