Page 28 of When a Lady Dares
“This is your heart line.” She gathered her thoughts. “In your case, it seems to pose a contradiction.”
“A contradiction?” He watched her with intense blue eyes. “Do you care to elaborate?”
She’d been prepared for the question. With a nod, she went on. “You will love a woman early in your days on this earth, but she will wound you.”
“I’m starting to think Esme is here after all, whispering choice details about my life in your ear.”
“Nothing of the sort,” she said. In truth, she’d simply made an educated guess given his attitude toward hearth and home. It seemed she’d struck her mark.
“And in the future?” His tone had grown more serious.
She leaned forward, studying his hand with an interest that she hoped appeared rooted in some archaic skill. “As I am interpreting this…and it is, simply an interpretation, certainly not an expert one, your heart will find its mate.”
Was it her imagination, or had a flame sparked in his eyes at her pronouncement? Was it possible this infuriating, confounding man harbored some thirst for love deep within his soul?
His gaze cooled, and with it, his voice went low and laced with a thread of cynicism. “How very poetic. It appears you may have missed your true calling. Perhaps your next endeavor might be in penning verses for Valentine’s cards.”
My, that was rather unexpected. If a flame had indeed been kindled, he’d doused it with maddening speed. She should thank him, in all honesty, for ensuring her lamentably sentimental heart did not get the better of her.
“An intriguing possibility. I must keep that option open for consideration.”
His mouth went taut. “For future reference, bear in mind that my heart does not have a mate. It’s quite black and hollow, you see.”
She studied him for a long moment. The emotion on his features contradicted his words.
“Even a scoundrel can fall in love, Professor.”
“Love is for fools. Gullible dolts.”
“Surely you don’t believe that.”
“Of course I do. Love is a myth. Nothing more.”
She lifted a brow, holding his gaze. “I assume you speak from experience.”
He nodded slowly. “I was young. And naive. But I learned a lesson I’m not apt to forget. I will not make that mistake again.”
“Perhaps someday, you will reconsider.”
“Not bloody likely.”
“Do you always fancy yourself to be in control of your emotions?” Slowly, she extricated her hand from his.
“Of course.” His fingers caught her hand in a light grip. “Not so fast, Miss Devereaux.”
Her curiosity aroused, she resisted the indignant urge to break free. “Is something wrong?”
“We haven’t examined your palm. Shall I take a look?”
“You possess a knowledge of palmistry?”
He gave a nod. “Rudimentary at best.”
“How very odd. I was not aware university studies included the occult arts.”
His mouth curved, not quite a smile. “A crewmember on my first expedition had learned the art as a lad. His mother had been quite skilled, or so he claimed.”
Skeptical, she lifted a brow. “He wished to determine you were not all doomed before he set off on the endeavor?”
