For a second, she remained bent slightly over the hedge, her hand still extended toward the misplaced Pall Mall ball hidden among the grass and tangled branches. Her pulse, which had already been fluttering from the mild embarrassment of her disastrous swing, suddenly quickened for a completely different reason.
Slowly, she straightened.
“I believe I’m perfectly capable of retrieving a ball on my own,” she said, though the calmness she tried to place into her voicewas undermined by the warmth rising unexpectedly through her chest.
Behind her, Alexander chuckled softly. The sound was low and amused, carrying the unmistakable suggestion that he did not entirely believe her.
“I have no doubt of your capability,” he replied, his tone mild. “But I was under the impression that your intention was to retrieve the ball, not disappear entirely into the shrubbery.”
Diana turned then.
He stood only a step away, close enough that she could see the faint glint of sunlight caught in the darker strands of his hair and the subtle curve of his mouth that suggested he was enjoying the situation far more than he ought to.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the ball she had just retrieved.
“I hardly vanished,” she said. “It was only a few steps.”
“A few steps,” Alexander repeated thoughtfully, glancing over her shoulder toward the wide stretch of lawn behind them. From this part of the garden, the rest of the group was partially hidden by hedges and flowering trees, their laughter drifting faintly across the distance. “From where I was standing, it appeared rather farther.”
Diana followed his gaze briefly.
He was not entirely wrong. The ball had indeed rolled far enough that they now stood in a quieter corner of the garden, partially secluded from the others.
When she turned back toward him, she realized Alexander had stepped closer.
Not enough that anyone observing from the lawn would think anything of it, but close enough that the space between them had shifted into something far more intimate than the open garden should have allowed. The sunlight filtering through the branches caught along the sharp lines of his profile, and Diana became suddenly aware of how tall he was, how easily his presence seemed to fill the silence.
She could feel the warmth of him now. If she shifted even slightly forward, the front of her gown would brush against his coat.
She wondered if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. If he could see the way her breath had grown just a touch shallower, or how the simple nearness of him seemed to make every nerve in her body strangely alert.
“I suppose,” she said lightly, forcing a calmness into her voice that did not quite match the restless flutter rising beneath her ribs, “that means I am still winning.”
The words sounded steady enough.
Yet Diana was acutely aware of the warmth climbing slowly up her throat and into her cheeks, and she was at risk of entirely forgetting what they had been arguing about in the first place.
His brows lifted slowly, the faintest spark of amusement lighting in his eyes. “Winning?”
“Yes.” Diana raised the ball between them as though presenting undeniable proof, though she was painfully conscious of how close he stood now. “My shot traveled the farthest.”
Alexander’s gaze followed the small movement of her hand, studying the ball with exaggerated seriousness before his attention drifted back upward. The slow movement of that glance made something tighten inside her chest.
“That,” he said thoughtfully, “is a very interesting interpretation of the rules.”
“It is a perfectly reasonable one.”
He folded his arms loosely across his chest, the movement shifting his coat slightly and drawing Diana’s attention—quite against her will—to the strong line of his shoulders. There was something too relaxed about him in that moment, something too certain in the way he regarded her.
“Remind me,” he said slowly, his voice lowering just enough that the sound of it seemed to linger between them, “was the objective of the game distance… or accuracy?”
Diana narrowed her eyes at him, though it had become difficult for her to breathe.
“Distance requires skill.”
“Accuracy requires greater skill.”
She lifted her chin stubbornly, though her pulse had begun behaving in a most inconvenient fashion.
