She stared at him. “How did it come to this?” The curiosity had been bobbing about her brain since earlier in the evening.
His fingers reached for a dislodged strand of her hair and tucked it carefully back into place. “You’re an incredible woman, that’s how. A man would have to be blind not to pay attention. And once he does, he has no choice but to realize that it will probably take him a lifetime of good deeds in order to deserve you.”
Pushing back his chair, Henry went to the door and closed it. He then went back to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out some paper and a pencil.
“I need you to understand something,” he said as he returned to his chair. “No other woman is prettier than you, Viola. Not to me.”
“But...” He had to be lying or at the very least embellishing the truth so he wouldn’t hurt her. “I am so unbelievably dull! My coloring is all wrong and there isn’t a single part of my appearance that has ever been coveted or considered fashionable.”
“I disagree, but since that doesn’t solve anything, I propose I show you how you look when seen through my eyes.” He crossed one leg over the other and settled the paper in his lap where a thick atlas gave it support. “Will you allow it?”
Viola hesitated. He might as well have asked her to strip naked, she was so overcome by self-consciousness. “I know I’m not pretty,” she said as if needing the reminder before she allowed herself to do something truly stupid, like imagine a drawing had the power to change her boring eyes, dull hair and pasty complexion.
“I think you should let me be the judge of that.” Henry locked his gaze with hers. “You’re obviously too objective.”
“I do not think so.”
He shrugged. “All right.”
His capitulation threw her, because for some absurd reason, arguing helped. It served as a welcome distraction from the idea of him studying every imperfect line of her face for as long as it would take him to complete the sketch. Swallowing, she clasped her hands together in her lap. She’d never been a coward. This fear she felt right now was Robert’s doing, and if she gave in to it, she’d be letting him win. So she tilted her chin up instead and said, “Very well. I will humor you.”
For the next ten minutes Henry’s pencil moved across the paper with swift and efficient strokes. His brow was knit in concentration, his eyes sharply focused and his mouth set in a flat line that conveyed how seriously he took the task of sketching Viola’s likeness. Each time he looked at her, it was with an artist’s critical eye, the expression so grave it tempted Viola to squirm in her seat. She resisted only because she didn’t want him to know how nerve-wracking she found the experience.
“Do not move,” Henry muttered. “I am almost done.”
Viola held her breath and her pose until Henry sat back, shifted his gaze between Viola and the sketch, and finally smiled. “Perfect,” he murmured.
Curiosity made her forget her nerves. She leaned forward. “Can I see?”
His eyes met hers and a brief moment of silence passed between them. Something brushed against her hand and she realized it was the paper on which he’d been drawing. He was holding it toward her.
Inhaling deeply, as if requiring the extra oxygen to steady herself, Viola fought past her tangled nerves and frenzied heartbeat and dropped her gaze.
Her breath caught, stuck somewhere in her throat because this... this woman gazing back at her had to be someone else. The eyes were intelligent and bright, the mouth curved as if seconds away from smiling and the nose a perfect complement to the other features. Even the spattering of freckles across her cheeks held appeal, adding charm and character in the most alluring way.
Tears started pressing against her eyes so she bit her lip and pushed them back. “I didn’t think it possible, but you have actually made me look pretty.”
“I only drew what was right before my eyes. What everyone else is too blind to see. Including you.”
An incredulous bit of laughter slipped past her lips. Looking up, she saw that he hadn’t moved, that his steady gaze was still on her, though it now held a very distinct edge of curiosity. Or perhaps expectation? She wasn’t quite sure, but it did make her stomach dip and the paper between her fingers flutter.
He took the paper from her hand and set it aside on his desk. When he turned back to face her, he was somehow closer than before. His thigh settled firmly against her own and then his hand cupped her cheek.
“Do you have any idea how hard I struggle to resist you?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath, a little undone by his blatant manner and slightly unnerved by the heat in his eyes. This was Henry, she reminded herself. He was a good man, not the womanizing rake she’d initially labeled him as. He would not treat her as poorly as Robert once had. And yet the memory of that regrettable experience snaked its way through her and pushed aside any growing desire she had to be brave—to take the chance she had here right now for the sake of a kiss.
He must have noticed, because he instantly dropped his hand and leaned back, adding distance between them once more, and in that moment Viola hated what Robert had done to her more than ever before, because he’d stolen her courage and her ability to surrender to the one man she so desperately wanted.
Chapter 19
Judging from her wary expression and how readily she glanced away, Henry could tell the statement frightened her, but it was important for him to be honest—to make sure she knew how desirable he found her. Seeing her reaction, however, almost broke his heart, and he knew that additional words would have to be said.
“I will never act on my desire for you unless it is what you want, Viola. You have my word on that.” Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, but he couldn’t allow her embarrassment to deter him. It was vital she understood he was nothing like Robert. “We can go as slow as you like. Even if we kiss it doesn’t mean anything else has to happen. I will make no demands of you. Do you understand that?”
She gave a vague nod. It wasn’t enough.
“Viola. Please look at me.” She raised her troubled gaze to his, and the struggle he saw in her eyes made him want to destroy the man who’d made her this way. “I cannot pretend I do not want you, because I do. In every conceivable way. But if we ever choose to share the same bed and make love to each other, it will be because you have decided to spend the rest of your life with me, for I would not go through with something like that unless I planned on spending the rest of my life with you.”
