Page 36 of Just Imagine
He was still dressed for the fields, and the sight of that muscular body unsettled her. The white shirt that stretched across his chest was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing tanned, hard-tendoned forearms. Brown trousers clung to his hips and hugged the powerful muscles of his thighs.
The spacious room in which they were standing seemed to have shrunk. Even standing still, he radiated an aura of power and danger. Somehow she’d managed to forget that. What curious, self-protective mechanism had made her reduce him in her mind to the level of other men? It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
Cain was aware of her scrutiny. She seemed to have no intention of being the first to speak, and her composure indicated a degree of self-confidence that intrigued him. Curious to test its limits, he broke the silence with deliberate brusqueness.
“You wanted to see me?”
She felt a stab of satisfaction. He didn’t know who she was. The veiled hat had given her this one small advantage. The masquerade wouldn’t last for long, but while it did, she’d have time to size up her opponent with wiser eyes than those of an immature eighteen-year-old who’d known both too much and too little.
“This room is quite beautiful,” she said coolly.
“I have an excellent housekeeper.”
“You’re fortunate.”
“Yes, I am.” He walked farther into the room, moving with the easy rolling gait of a man who spent much of his time on horseback. “She usually takes care of calls like yours, but she’s out on some kind of errand.”
Kit wondered who he thought she was and what he meant. “She’s gone to see the Conjure Woman.”
“The Conjure Woman?”
“She makes spells and tells futures.” After three years at Risen Glory, he didn’t even know this much. Nothing could have offered more proof that he didn’t belong here. “She’s sick, and Sophronia’s gone to see her.”
“You know Sophronia?”
“Yes.”
“So you live nearby?”
She nodded but didn’t elaborate. He indicated a chair. “You didn’t give Lucy your name.”
“Lucy? Do you mean your maid?”
“I see there’s something you don’t know.”
She ignored the chair he’d indicated and walked to the fireplace, deliberately turning her back to him. He noticed that she moved with a bolder step than most women. She also didn’t try to position herself in a way that showed off her fashionable gown to best advantage. It was as if her clothing were merely something to toss on in the morning and, once she’d done up the fastenings, to forget.
He decided to press her. “Your name?”
“Is it important?” Her voice was low, husky, and distinctly Southern.
“Maybe.”
“I wonder why.”
Cain was intrigued as much by the provocative way she avoided answering his question as by the faint fragrance of jasmine that drifted from her skirts and tugged at his senses. He wished she’d turn back around so he could get a closer look at the captivating features he could only glimpse behind the veil.
“A lady of mystery,” he mocked softly, “coming into the enemy’s lair without a zealous mother to serve as chaperone. Not wise at all.”
“I don’t always behave wisely.”
Cain smiled. “Neither do I.”
His gaze slipped from that silly dab of a hat to the coil of silky dark hair resting on the nape of her neck. What would it look like unfastened and tumbling over naked white shoulders? His jolt of arousal told him he’d been without a woman too long. Although even if he’d had a dozen the night before, he knew this woman would still have stirred him.
“Should I expect a jealous husband to come banging on my door looking for his wayward wife?”
“I have no husband.”
