Page 55 of Ravishing Camille
As he sat, she stared at him with no small bit of fury. “You investigated him?”
“No.” He brushed a hand down the crease of his trousers and crossed one leg over the other. He hoped it helped conceal his physical need of her. But attempting to appear nonchalant for the onlooking public was trying his soul. “I asked Victor if he knew him. He does. Well.”
She huffed and swung around to stare at the early morning riders, all of them mounted on fine greys or chestnuts. All of them, too, getting a good gander at the two of them. Most of them—men— discreetly shaking their heads or commenting to their companions. News of last night’s events, Pierce assumed, occupied their minds.
He patted the wooden seat. “Come sit down.”
She shook her head.
He inhaled. “Very well. I shall tell you where you stand. I want you. It’s what Connor saw last night. It’s what prompted him. It’s what I admit. I want you. I want everything about you.”
If he had his pocket watch, he might have timed the eternity it took her to turn. But as it was, she froze at his first words and inch by inch turned to face him. A minute? Five? What did it matter? At last, she stared at him, her lips parted, her mysterious dark eyes flashing in wonder.
He found himself attempting to comfort her with a smile. “I saw you first, as a girl. Impulsive and rambunctious. Quick witted and droll. A new member of the family. You were amusing and my friend. But still too young for me to consider you attractive. For years, I had business on my mind. I didn’t search for a wife. I had too much of the world to see. Too much to conquer. Too much to learn about what I was best suited for…and who I was best suited for. As I learned more about what I desired in a lover or a wife, you were never among the candidates.”
She surveyed the trees above and the lilies at her feet. “Well, that’s not very complimentary.”
“I have more that is.”
She swallowed and pressed her lips together. “Tell me.”
“No.”
She blinked, her dark lashes fluttering in confusion.
“Not now. Not here.” He wanted to say these things as he’d rehearsed them all through the night. Alone in his cold bed, he’d planned this. Now he was foiled by the hour and the place even if they provided the perfect setting for logic and bargains. Meant for the privacy of a room and his ability to embrace her, his admission and his proposition were such intimate declarations that he feared he’d stumble through this. “But it is best we are here in public.”
She took affront. But it covered a fathomless well of sorrow. “I see. You will now tell me we are done? Fine! Save your breath!”
She took a step away.
“No! Stop.” He killed the urge to stand and take her in his arms. That would make matters worse. For now…and later. “Look at me.”
She clenched her fists.
“Camille. You and I must settle this between us. I see now the best way is for us to match our actions to the moment.”
“Oh, really!” She yanked off her tam with one hand and ran the other through her hair, sending it over her shoulders. “What is the moment?”
He blew out a gust of air. “I am trying to be logical.”
“You do that little thing!” She arched her back, tears swimming in her eyes, and examined him as if he were the dearest man in the world. “I ache to have you. I’ve wanted you my entire life. That girl you saw, she idolized you. That girl became a young woman and she spent her days and her years comparing you to every man she met. Was this one as handsome? That one as bold? As funny? As successful in business or law or politics or…or…the art of being you! She found each wanting. Oh. In every way. She found each to be self-centered or unimaginative. Stupid. Or careless with money. Indifferent to family. Insensitive. Or just dull.”
His heart swelled with joy and pride at her admissions. “Camille, listen to me.”
She whirled her bike around. “I’m going home.”
“Camille, you and I will not have an affair in this house or in Rue Haussmann.”
“Right you are.” She took a step.
And he shot from the bench and caught her wrist. “After Marianne’s and Remy’s ball, you and I will go away together.”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. Disbelief mingled there with fierce desire. “You’d do that?”
He had the insane urge to cup her cheek and kiss her until she sighed in his arms. “We must. Don’t you think?”
“I do,” she whispered. “I’d say for four days.”
