Page 27 of Never Leave Me
“At the very least, let’s not make a big deal about correcting their wrong assumption.” Without waiting to see his reaction, shestarted up the beach toward where she’d left their towels. Only when she began to dry off did she glance at him. He stood up to his ankles in the ebb and flow of waves, and he was staring at her. Something in his gaze told her he’d watched her walk away and had enjoyed every second of it.
He shifted his attention from her at the same time she ducked for her cover-up. Harrison had been noticing how she looked? Warm pleasure bubbled inside.
Harrison approached, reached for his towel, and began drying off. “Look, love. Acting like we’re a couple, married or otherwise, in front of the Fletchers isn’t such a good idea.”
“Someone very wise told me recently that we’ll never see these people again, so why worry about what they think?”
“That was very wise. But I count myself a man of integrity. And I would loathe myself if I took advantage of you or the situation in any way.”
“I know you well enough to say with confidence that you won’t take advantage of me.” She smiled at his sweetness and consideration.
“I’m a man, Ellen. Not a monk.” He smiled back, but that same something burned in his eyes, reminding her of the new awareness they had of one another.
Perhaps he was right. She hesitated but only for a second. “We probably won’t see them much anyway. So, let’s not worry about it.”
Harrison had to bite back a groan as Ellen touched his arm. Again.
Her laughter tinkled in the air, laughter at something Mrs. Fletcher had said. He hadn’t heard half the conversation, had been too enamored by Ellen. Fortunately, he had enough training inmanners to at least give the appearance of participating in the formal dinner, even if he could focus on nothing but the vivacious woman by his side, which was only more difficult whenever she inadvertently brushed against him.
She was attired in a strapless light blue gown with a form-fitting silver-and-blue sequined bodice and a skirt that flowed in sleek lines around her legs. The diamond studs in her earlobes only drew his attention to the graceful expanse of neck beneath her ears.
The blue of her dress highlighted the blue of her eyes, as did her new tan, so that whenever she looked at him, his insides turned into liquid fuel. He feared that the smallest spark would enflame him, that he’d do something really stupid and move too fast before she was ready. Even if she’d insisted they were merely friends, he’d sensed a subtle shift in how she was beginning to view him. At least he hoped she was shifting ... but he couldn’t push her for fear that he’d end up pushing her out of his life altogether.
The low lighting, elegant table settings, and romantic atmosphere of the dining room weren’t helping to keep his thoughts in check. The Fletchers’ talk about marriage and romance wasn’t helping either.
He should have known the moment Ellen predicted they wouldn’t see the couple much that they’d end up sitting together after dinner as they waited for the dancing to begin.
“What do you think, Harrison?” Ellen’s fingers still rested on his arm. Even through his tuxedo sleeve, her touch seared him.
“Anything you want, love.” He shifted just slightly so that he met her gaze.
Her eyes were full of light and laughter. “You haven’t been listening, have you?”
“Of course I have. You were talking about having a go at sailing on the bay.”
“What about the sailing?” Her smile turned impish with challenge.
He had no idea, so he made an educated conjecture. “You’re keen to try it tomorrow.”
His answer brought a round of laughter from the other three, the sign he’d answered incorrectly.
“The opposite.” Ellen squeezed his arm. “Since we can go sailing anywhere, I said I’d rather take the aerial tram tour above the rainforest.”
“Sounds tremendous. Perfect, really.” Doing anything with her was perfect.
Dr. Fletcher finished taking a sip of wine, eyeing Harrison over the rim of his glass. “Lord Burlington, it’s quite obvious you have only one thing on your mind tonight.”
“And what might that be?” The question came out before he realized he shouldn’t have proffered it. He certainly didn’t want to hear Dr. Fletcher’s interpretation of his mood.
“Ever since you’ve stepped into the dining room, it’s been clear you’ve wanted to pull Ellen into your arms and kiss her.”
He stiffened. The last thing he needed was for Dr. Fletcher to broadcast his desires, which the fellow seemed inclined to do every time they were together. He didn’t dare make eye contact with Ellen now.
“Go ahead, children.” Mrs. Fletcher smiled at him and then Ellen. “We won’t mind a little kissing.”
He forced what he hoped was a lighthearted-sounding laugh. “I assure you, we’re quite all right.”
“Come, now,” Dr. Fletcher insisted. “It’s easy to diagnose your fever. Kissing her will keep the heat from rising too high.”
