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Her gaze caught Jason’s, and she didn’t blush because of the moisture pooling in hers.

“Most men would’ve stopped searching long before that, but not Landry. He would not give up.” Emotion made her voice crack. “And not only did he take me in, but Mama too. He's treated her as a cherished relative.”

Jason brushed a fingertip at the corner of her eye, wiping away the lone tear that had escaped. “He’s a wonderful brother.”

Suddenly, he missed his brothers’ comradery and good-natured insults and jests.

Fingering the silver cloak clasp at her neck, Lenora grinned. “He truly is.”

Jason quirked an eyebrow and skewed his mouth up on one side. “Laureen Smythe-Shufflebottom?”

Giggling, Lenora shook her head. “Afraid of someone learning of my identity, Mama changed my first name. She changed our last name to Smith after my adopted father died. His pregnant mistress pushed him down a flight of stairs when he wouldn’t renounce his vocation and leave Mama and me.”

She’d never spoken of that ugliness with anyone but Landry. Not even Mama. Somehow, it felt fitting to share such intimate details with Jason.

He took her gloved hand in his and linked their fingers. “I like Laureen, but Lenora fits you better. Probably because that’s how I’ve known you.”

“You think so?” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve always wanted a sophisticated name like Alexandra or Josephine. Or even something exotic such as Domonique or Antoinette. But then, an illegitimate noblewoman’s daughter ought not to have lofty aspirations.”

With his other hand, Jason gently turned her face until his eyes bored into Lenora’s soul. “Never disparage yourself, Lenora. You are an extraordinary, intelligent, and courageous young woman.”

Emotion clogged her throat, and her eyes misted.

Unforeseen and unwarranted anger suddenly gripped her that he could reduce her to a watering pot with such practiced ease. Men of his ilk could always wrap women around their little fingers with a seductive glance or smile.

She lifted her chin, just short of tossing her head. Such overt theatrics were not what she was made of.

“I vow, Jason, you say that to all the women you have waiting for you in various ports around the world.” Waving her hand, she continued in a singsong voice. “Remarkable. Unique. Extraordinary. Unparalleled…”

A throaty growl reverberated in his throat, and Lenora stuttered to a stop.

Jason’s features had turned to granite, and a flinty hardness that she’d never seen before entered his hazel eyes. His words were clipped and raspy. “No women are awaiting me at any port unless you count my mother amongst their numbers.”

Chagrin promptly chastised her. What he did was none of her business, and it was beyond the pale for her to judge him. It wasn’t her place to try to change him either.

“I’m sorry, Jason. That was not well done of me.”

His anger evaporated as swiftly as it had manifested, and a teasing gleam crinkled the corners of his face.

“Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Lenora.”

Now it was her turn to become vexed.

“Jealous?”

Jealous? Preposterous.

Was it?

That unwanted thought further fueled her irritation.

“I am no such thing, you arrogant chucklehead.”

“Such unkind words coming from such sweet lips,” he murmured.

Her gaze locked with his, and something indescribable within the depths of his eyes touched her spirit. Her tirade flew away like the down of a thistle in a windstorm with her next irregular breath. This man had her at sixes and sevens. Blowing hot and then cold, then hot again, all with a single sizzling look.

She darted her tongue out to moisten her dry lips.

With a gravelly groan, Jason encased her in his strong embrace and captured her mouth. His lips were velvety firm and warm and tasted of mint and tea.

Lenora permitted her lashes to flutter shut. How could she not when something akin to warm honey or melted chocolate had replaced her blood, and every joint seemed to have softened to the consistency of fresh custard?

I’m undone.