Page 26 of Enticing the Devil

Moving carefully so as not to upset the boat, she shifted her weight and leaned forward to claim the fishing pole as she murmured a quick thank you. Then she watched as he turned toward one side, propped his own pole between his spread knees, and tossed the bait into the water.

She suddenly wished she could paint him exactly like that. The way the earthy tones of his buckskin breeches and chocolate-brown coat contrasted with the lush greenery on shore and the dark blue and gold of the lake. Even in his relaxed posture, with his shoulders lowered and his elbows resting on his solid thighs, he possessed such a commanding presence that was somehow not at all incongruent to the natural serenity of the setting. Perhaps she’d even allow her watercolors to blur a bit of the background so the eye was inescapably drawn to the strong lines of his form, the confidence in his casual manner, and the focus in his gaze—which was once again turned on her.

As soon as her eyes met his, he frowned and looked away.

She’d been caught staring yet again. It would seem this morning was going to be highlighted by her frequent moments of embarrassment.

Anne clenched her teeth. The two of them were going to be spending nearly the entire day together. If she didn’t set aside her internal disquiet and find a way to engage in simple conversation with the man, it was going to prove unendurable. Surely, she could manage a bit of innocuous small talk.

“Is fishing one of your preferred hobbies, Mr. Thomas?”

He glanced aside at her for a brief moment before replying. “I don’t have time for hobbies.”

Anne forced herself to ignore his gruff tone as she continued pleasantly. “Yet you appear rather proficient at the task.”

He shrugged his great shoulders. “It’s not particularly difficult to bait a hook.”

All right, then. Apparently, the man didn’t appreciate compliments, no matter how subtle. Conversation was overrated, anyway. Concealing her sigh, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. Eying her pole dubiously, she tipped it forward and allowed the baited hook to drop into the water as she’d seen him do. Now, she supposed all there was to do was wait, though she hadn’t the slightest idea what to do if she actually got the attention of a fish.

“Have you fished before?” he asked.

“What?” Looking up with a blink, she realized he was watching her with a somewhat skeptical expression. Her lack of experience was no doubt quite obvious. “Only once,” she replied, “when I was very small. Whenever my father spent time in the country, he’d visit the trout stream on our estate. One time, I was curious enough to ask if I could go as well.” She watched the ripples from their gently rocking boat fade out across the lake’s surface. “The footman who accompanied me didn’t know much more about fishing than I did.”

There was a brief silence. “Your father didn’t take you himself?”

She gave a soft laugh. “Definitely not. Lord Humphries is not a man to suffer the company of children. Young or grown,” she muttered, then chastised herself for the display of self-indulgent bitterness. To offset her resentful tone, she offered a smile as she said, “But if fishing is not particularly difficult—as you said—I’m certain I’ll manage.” Suddenly realizing she was in the midst of a perfect opportunity to explore a possible new interest, she boldly risked adding, “Though if you feel a desire to offer a few tips along the way, I’d be obliged.”

His answer was a short grunt as he turned his attention back to his own pole.

She frowned. It had been worth a try, but she probably should have known better than to ask such a trying favor of her grouchy partner.

Silence reigned once again, but only for a few minutes before he spoke with no preamble whatsoever, asking, “What did the flowers mean?”

“What?” she said again, a bit sharper this time.

Without looking at her, he clarified—though truly no clarification was needed. She knew exactly what he was asking even if she’d hoped to God he wouldn’t.

“Our scandalous bouquet,” he prompted while staring intently at the spot where his line disappeared into the water.

“Right. Nothing significant, really.” She tried for a lightly dismissive tone, hoping to convince him the matter was inconsequential.

He did look at her then, one heavy black brow raised in disbelief as he narrowed his gaze. “You’re not a good liar, Lady Anne.”

She glanced down as she tried to keep the rising blush at bay. “Truly. I know there was no intention behind your selections. It was an unfortunate coincidence that Angelique is familiar with the symbolism; otherwise, I doubt anyone else would have noticed a thing about it.”

There was a long pause before he muttered, “But you knew the meaning they supposedly conveyed the moment I brought them to you.”

Anne wasn’t sure why her breath caught as it did or why her belly tightened as he stared at her, but for a second, she honestly couldn’t figure out how to reply.

“As I said,” she finally managed, “I knew it wasn’t intentional, so I didn’t think much on it.”

Another pause, then he looked back to where his line disappeared into the water.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” he noted in a disgruntled baritone.

She almost smiled at his annoyance but replied simply, “No, I’m not.”

Thankfully, he let the matter drop, and soon after, he hauled in their first catch of the morning.

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