Moonlight and the Duke (Cherish and the Duke #2)

Chapter Seven

E den knew she had overdone it last night and was going to regret not getting to sleep until the wee hours of the morning. She never stayed up this late but was glad she had done so this time, because she never would have gotten her moonlight dance with Connor if she had retired earlier.

Yes, completely worth it, she decided, even though her head was pounding and her legs felt like lead weights had been attached to them.

She hoped her stamina would last into the afternoon. She and the children intended to return to Lynton Grange before the four o’clock hour, when tea was served.

She could skip it and grab a much-needed nap instead. Yes, that was a workable plan.

After preparing herself for the day with Delia’s assistance—it seemed Duchess Evelyn was going to send her maid to Eden every morning and throughout the day in order to keep her as stylish as possible, even while on her bird-watching excursion—Eden went upstairs to fetch the children.

She had allowed Delia to fuss over her hair and attire without complaint, but one thing she would not compromise on was wearing her spectacles, which were now firmly ensconced on her nose.

She was just about to enter Priscilla’s room when she was brought up short at the threshold. Connor was there, bent on one knee beside his daughter while he plaited her hair and tied it with a bow. Eden’s heart did leaps and flips as she watched him. “Oh,” she said when he suddenly looked up and saw her standing there.

“Good morning, Eden.” He rose to his full height now that he had finished his task, and smiled at her.

Had a handsomer man ever existed?

“Good morning,” she replied. He must have just returned from an early ride, because he was dressed quite informally. In truth, he looked dashing in a white lawn shirt that stretched across his broad chest and caressed the rippling muscles of his arms.

He had held her in those arms last night. Danced with her under the moonlight.

“Um, I see you have been out riding.” She tried not to blush as she perused the rest of him. He wore buff breeches and had on some old brown riding boots. His hair was slightly windblown, and a few curls clung to his damp neck in sinful temptation.

“Yes, my usual morning routine. I saw no reason to change it.”

“Of course… Did others join you?”

“Surprisingly, no. Everyone seems to be sleeping in except for us.” He was eyeing her with amused detachment, no doubt sensing her discomfort after he had held her in his arms last night.

“They appear to be more sensible than we are.” She then turned to Priscilla. “Don’t you look lovely? And your hairstyle is sheer perfection. Your father did an excellent job. I love the pretty bow he tied in your braid.”

Priscilla took hold of her father’s hand, because this little girl was not keen on his leaving. She truly looked adorable. But then, all of Connor’s children had his good looks. She smiled proudly. The girl was little and sweet, as cuddly as a precious lamb.

Connor gathered her hiking gear. Eden’s heart melted as she watched him prepare his little girl for their outing. He slung her pouch over her slight shoulder, placed the binoculars to hang from her neck, and put the sunhat Eden had let her borrow atop her head. All one could see peeking out from under the hat was Priscilla’s big eyes and little cherry lips.

“I wanted to kiss my children and wish them all a good day,” he explained, although he really did not owe Eden a reason for visiting his own offspring. They were his flesh and blood. She was the interloper among them.

“And compliment them on the fine letters they wrote?” Eden suggested, since the boys and Priscilla had truly agonized over that punishment. But they took it seriously and wrote surprisingly touching letters. Sarah and Millie had shown her the ones written to them.

Connor smiled. “Yes, I was about to do exactly that…now that you mention it.”

He knelt again so that he was once more at Priscilla’s eye level. “I am so proud of you, sweetheart,” he said with all the warmth of his love. “You wrote beautiful notes of apology.”

“Thank you, Papa.” She threw her arms around his neck, lunging at him so that he almost fell over.

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek. “Promise me you will behave yourself today. Stay close to Eden and do what she tells you.”

Priscilla nodded. “I will.”

He had a similar conversation with the boys, who beamed with pride as he spoke to them. Of course, one could only hope the exercise had made them more thoughtful, and they would not get into mischief again. Eden did not know if the letter writing had been that successful. It was too much to hope they would suddenly change their devilish ways.

After all, the point was not to turn them into obedient drones. They did not live in a beehive. They were meant to be spirited and adventurous.

Eden decided to take them in the rig because it was simply too hot to walk all the way to the cliffs and back. They would do plenty of running around as they climbed the slopes searching for nests. Of course, they would do nothing dangerous, because Priscilla and Alex were too young to be taken on any serious climbs. They would be safe enough keeping to the beach and looking up at the birds nesting on the lower cliff ledges.

It was a good way to teach them about hierarchies that existed everywhere in life—among men, birds, and all living things. By now they understood that their father, being a duke, was on the top rung of English society.

Connor escorted them as they marched downstairs. His eldest son climbed into the passenger seat beside Eden while the two younger children scampered into the back.

Eden could tell by the wistful look in Connor’s eyes that he ached to join them. But she knew he could not. He had young ladies to woo.

“Be careful,” he said, still reluctant to let go of them. “Do you have everything you need?”

Eden nodded. “We have our hats, binoculars, pads, and pencils. We also have a week’s worth of food packed in the picnic basket.”

He glanced at his boys and then turned back to her with a smile. “A week’s worth? Let’s hope it lasts beyond an hour.”

“We’ll forage for wild berries if we must,” she teased. “See you at teatime.”

Their first stop was the pond, where Eden lectured the children on showing kindness to animals. “But Henry Bright,” Alex said, referring to the Lynton Grange gamekeeper, “will just shoot them for our supper. Why be nice to them when we are just going to eat them?”

Eden had no answer for that. “Well, just do not torment them before they die. Would you want to be tormented even if you were going to be eaten in a month’s time?”

That led to the boys teasing their sister about eating her up.

“Don’t eat me!” Priscilla wailed, and burst into tears.

Dear heaven. Time for Eden to rethink this idea.

How had she botched this so badly? Perhaps because she was lecturing them instead of allowing them to reach the right conclusion on their own. Of course, this assumed they would reach it and not resort to hurling stones at the geese again.

Their time by the cliffs was much more productive. They were not climbing to the top but mostly exploring along the beach and lower cliff ledges. The azure sea was to the left of them, the soaring red cliffs to their right as they trod through the sand. They set up watch on a low ledge and observed the birds flying in and out of their nests immediately above them. They also watched as several birds circled over the water. The boys cheered when a kestrel dove in and then flew back up with a fat fish wriggling in its beak.

They spent hours walking, observing, and even drawing what they saw. When the boys claimed they were hungry, they made their way back up to their rig. Eden had led the horse to a nearby stream and let him drink his fill before they went off on their explorations. He was loosely tethered in the shade beside some forage shrubs that he could munch on when he got hungry.

Thankfully, the rig was still there when they hiked back up. The horse was once again drinking contentedly by the stream, lapping up the cool water with his thick tongue.

Eden and the children settled under one of the larger shade trees and shared the pasties, fruit, bread, cheeses, and strawberry tarts Connor’s cook had packed for them. Bottles of cider and lemonade had also been provided.

The boys did not stop eating or guzzling their drinks until the basket was completely empty. They were going to grow as big as Connor, and that required quite a bit of nourishment to reach their full height.

As the sun began its descent on the horizon, Eden decided it was time to return. By the position of the sun, she judged it was nearing three o’clock in the afternoon. Since they still had almost an hour’s ride home, they quickly packed up and hopped in the rig for the return trip.

Eden took the front passenger seat this time and allowed young Connor to drive. Alex and Priscilla jumped in the back. They hadn’t gone very far before Priscilla stretched out and promptly fell asleep with her head on her brother’s lap.

Alex absently stroked his sister’s curls and did not fidget even once, because he did not wish to disturb her. These boys could tease their little sister mercilessly but also be kind as anything to her, as Alex was now.

Eden loved this about siblings and wished she had some of her own, even if they had only been her father’s by-blows. Kin was kin, was it not?

Her mother and father hated each other, so there were never going to be any legitimate children arising from that union after her. Yet she doubted there were any illegitimate ones, either. Not that her father was a saint. He certainly was not. However, it was not like him to be discreet about anything , not even his misbehavior. She would have known if there were any Darrow by-blows out there.

They had just reached the manor and drawn up to its courtyard when Connor dashed out of the house toward them. “Thank goodness you’re back. I was just about to ride out to find you.”

Eden’s heart tightened. “What is the matter? Is Duchess Evelyn all right?”

Sarah and Millie had rushed out immediately behind him. “Evelyn is fine,” he assured her.

Eden emitted a rush of breath. “Thank goodness.”

The two maids led the boys and a groggy Priscilla, who had woken up only minutes earlier, up to their quarters.

Instead of allowing her to return to her own guest chamber, Connor held Eden back. “Come with me.”

He led her into his study. A woman was seated on the settee and appeared to be crying.

Eden’s eyes widened. “Mama?”

Well, she was not entirely surprised to find her mother here, because it usually took no more than a day or two for one of her parents to come running to her, demanding she choose sides in their latest battle. But to see her mother crying this hard? Those were genuine tears she was spilling.

Eden rushed to her side. “What happened, Mama?”

Her mother merely wailed into her lace handkerchief.

Dread suddenly filled Eden. “Has something happened to Papa?”

Her mother nodded.

Connor closed the door but remained in the study with them. He drew up a chair for Eden and took one for himself beside her. “As far as I can tell, your mother thinks she might have killed your father.”

She gasped. “What?”

“I hit him harder than usual,” her mother explained between bouts of tears and hiccups. “The dolt did not duck in time.”

Eden ground her teeth. “You should not have hit him at all. Are you certain he is dead? Have you summoned a doctor?”

“Do not lecture me, Eden. Your father is a maddening boor. Why should he be the one to stay with you when I rode all the way from London just as he did to be with you? If he were a gentleman, he would have removed himself and settled in one of the lovely inns in Lynton.”

“As you could have done,” Eden muttered. “Or the two of you could have behaved like responsible adults and simply avoided each other. It is a big house. Plenty of bedrooms. You could have kept to opposite sides of the house. But Mama, how has it been left? Did you summon the doctor?”

“Ugh, Eden! You are still lecturing me. Stop being as insufferable as your father.”

“Well, he won’t be all that insufferable if he is truly dead,” she muttered, her voice shaking with anger at both of them. It was bad enough they had invaded her home at the same time, which was the reason she was here and forced to watch Connor find some adorable young thing to marry. If not for their untimely arrival, she could have been moping around her own home and left in peace while she wallowed in her misery. Chestnut Hill was her home. Her home. Owned by her outright.

Her parents had no claim to it, and yet had chased her out of it.

Of course, she welcomed each of them to visit her whenever they wished. As miserable as they were, they were still her parents. But when the two of them descended on her together? It was utter chaos.

She still could not wrap her brain around the possibility that her father was dead or that her mother had killed him. “Mama, tell me exactly what happened. How did the accident come about?”

“It was no accident. I purposely threw your candelabrum at him. He just stood there like the dolt he is…was… Well, you know what I mean. The gall of that man. He did not bother to block it. The thing hit him squarely in the head. And now I am sure he is dead and it is all his fault.”

“ His fault?” Eden turned to Connor, wondering what he must be thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

How could he not be disgusted with her parents? By extension, how could he not be disgusted with her ?

“Yes, his fault,” her mother repeated. “Because of his stupidity, I shall now have to face the magistrate and explain why I attacked him. I am certain he will understand and absolve me of all blame. But what if he is a boor and does not? Am I to be condemned now as a criminal? And must I be questioned? It is too humiliating to contemplate. Oh, why must I suffer so?”

“You? Papa got the worst of it, since you may have killed him,” Eden pointed out, hoping against hope her father had merely been knocked unconscious and was not lying dead on her floor.

“Stop lecturing me, Eden! Must I face your inquisition and that of the magistrate? It is too distressing. I shall break out in hives because I am so stressed. Your father’s fault, of course.”

“Am I to understand the reason for your distress is your annoyance at the possibility of being questioned by the magistrate?” Eden glanced at Connor because he happened to be the local magistrate. “Do you feel any remorse for possibly ending his life?”

“He should have moved out of the way! It was an accident, not a crime,” her mother said with unwarranted indignity.

Connor cleared his throat. “I’ve sent a footman to fetch the doctor.”

“Thank goodness,” Eden muttered.

Connor took hold of her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I’ll take you back to your home…unless you would rather stay here while I attend to your father.”

Eden was quite spent from her outing, but this was too important an incident to ignore. “I want to go with you.”

Her mother tipped her chin up and snorted in indignation. “Of course, leave me behind and run to your undeserving father. You always liked him best.”

“At the moment, I do not like either of you. However, you are alive and my father is possibly dead.”

“Exactly,” her mother said. “He is dead and I am alive. You should be looking after me.”

Eden sighed. “Come with us, then.”

“I will not set foot in that house while your father is still there. I am staying here.” Mama turned to Connor and cast him an engaging smile. “You seem to have a lovely house party going on. I do adore a good party. I’ll have a visit with your mother while the two of you deal with that man .”

“That man is your husband,” Eden shot back, leaping to her feet now that the last vestiges of her patience had been spent. “You’ll come with us and—”

Connor was still holding her hand, and gave it another light squeeze as he rose beside her. “Let’s you and I deal with this. Give me a moment to fill my mother in on what has happened. She’ll take care of your mother until we return. All right, Eden?”

She dreaded the impression her mother would make on his guests, particularly the Lothmere family. It made her cringe to think of her mother going on and on about her father and this being his fault. But was it not better to simply get this inevitable embarrassment out of the way? If Eden’s mother did not scare Lord Aubrey away after this, then nothing would. “All right.”

Connor took a few minutes to speak to his mother and also ordered his brougham brought around. The elegant open carriage awaited them in the courtyard by the time they were ready to leave a few minutes later.

Connor settled beside her and ordered his driver to proceed.

“Right, Your Grace,” the man said, spurring the team to a trot.

Eden let out the breath she had been holding all the while in her mother’s company. “I’m so sorry this—”

“Eden, none of this is your fault,” Connor said gently, and took her hand again. “Nor do I mind helping you out after all the help you’ve given me. I just hope your father is all right.”

“So do I.” She sighed and leaned back against the squabs. “Connor, what makes two people hate each other so much?”

“I don’t know.” He nudged her to his side and allowed her to lean her head on his shoulder instead of the carriage’s metal frame. “Love and hate are not opposite emotions. Love and apathy are opposites. Sometimes, there is a thin line between love and hate.”

“I cannot imagine they ever started with love. I doubt they ever felt the slightest connection to each other. Nor do they feel very connected to me. I am more of a truce negotiator—and not a very good one at that, since tensions always flare within an hour or two of my attempted resolution. They never think of me as their beloved child.”

She felt like crying, but this was not the time for it. She prayed they would find her father sitting up and breathing when they reached her home.

“Eden, assuming your father is still alive and cannot travel for a while,” he said, “you are welcome to stay with us at Lynton Grange, if you ever feel the need to escape. My home is always open to you. Come to us whenever you want, day or night, and stay for as long as you wish.”

“And have my parents disrupt your household when they come shouting for me to referee their next match?”

“Is it much different than my boys and their antics?” He cast her an affectionate smile.

“Much different. I like your boys. They will grow up to be fine men, just like their father. My family, on the other hand, is hopeless.”

“Well, you are a treasure and more than make up for their failings.”

She gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, I… Oh, look! There’s the doctor’s carriage. That was fast.”

Connor nodded. “Your staff probably sent for him after your mother ran to us.”

That made sense. Unlike her parents, her staff was reliable and sensible.

To her relief, her father was sitting on the settee in the parlor with a bloodied cloth held to his head while the doctor ministered to him.

Eden greeted the local doctor, a dependable man with army training that she thought would come in handy, since her father probably needed stitches in his head. “Thank you for coming so promptly, Dr. Weaver. What’s to be done for my father?”

“Just a few stitches and a bit of rest.”

She nodded. “I’ll attend to whatever he needs.” She turned to her father, noting the lump that was the size of a goose egg protruding from his skull. “She really beaned you this time, Papa. What did you say to her?”

Her father cast her an indignant look. “What makes you think I said or did anything?”

Eden rolled her eyes. “You always do something to set her off. On purpose, I might add.”

“She deserves it,” he muttered. “The woman is an insufferable banshee. I am the one to be pitied. She almost killed me.”

Dr. Weaver’s expression remained professional and detached. “Sit quietly now, Lord Darrow. I am going to stitch you up, and you will need to remain still for this.”

Eden did not know whether it was the heat of the day, too much time spent under the sun, or merely the strain of thinking her father had been killed that prompted her to suddenly feel ill. Her head began to spin as soon as the doctor withdrew his needle. She felt dizzy, and an odd numbness began to spread through her body in waves.

“Eden!” Connor’s arms came around her as she suddenly swayed. “Sit down.”

He helped her to one of the nearby chairs, and she sank heavily onto it.

“You’re shaking, love,” he said, his voice tender and husky.

She nodded. “I need air. Connor, please…”

He glanced around, noted the implements the doctor was taking out of his bag, and hastily agreed. “Let me get you outside.”

He put an arm around her waist and kept protective hold of her as he led her onto the shaded terrace that was similar to his in size and view, except hers did not have as beautiful a garden. She loved flowers and had many colorful blooms, but they were no match for his display, known throughout England as one of the finest examples of horticultural excellence.

“Evans, bring out lemonade and any sweet cakes you can find,” Connor ordered her butler as the man followed after them, concern for his mistress etched on his face.

“At once, Your Grace.”

Connor made certain she was seated in a shady spot that was also in the path of a cooling sea breeze. “You overdid it today, Eden. My fault entirely,” he muttered. “I should have gone with you. Or not let you stay out so long.”

“On our bird watch? When have you ever had the patience to watch birds? But I do it all the time,” she insisted. “It wasn’t the length of the excursion that was the problem. I enjoyed it, and so did your children. And you could not have gone with us, or it would have defeated the entire purpose of my taking them out of your hair in the first place.”

“But I should have been more thoughtful. I don’t know, I should have looked out for you better. We were dancing into the wee hours of the morning.”

She smiled at him. “I liked dancing with you.”

“Me too.” He grinned back. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “You are an excellent dancer. Or was it just the music and moonlight that swept me away?”

He tweaked her chin. “It was my being manly and your being in my manly arms, of course. How does it feel to have danced with a Silver Duke?”

“Almost as good as I will feel after taking a sip of this lemonade.” She nodded toward Evans, who bustled out with a lemonade pitcher, glasses, and an enormous cherry pie. “You don’t expect me to eat all that by myself, do you?”

“No, I’ll make the sacrifice and join you,” Connor teased, settling beside her. He frowned when she reached for the pitcher. “I’ll do it. Sit back and rest, Eden. Let me take care of you.”

“Being waited upon by a Silver Duke. Now, that is something to note in my diary.”

He arched an eyebrow as he poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to her. “Do you keep one?”

She sighed. “Yes, and I used to write all sorts of improper things in it.”

“But no more?”

“Not really, not all that much lately. I did at one time, but that was ages ago. It turns out my life is very dull and there was never anything of interest to write in it, so I had to make up lots of exciting things.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, mostly silly things. Pirate invasions. Dragons. Elves and pixies.”

“What about your debut Season? Was this not interesting enough?”

She took a sip of her lemonade. “No, not particularly.”

He regarded her dubiously while cutting her a generous slice of pie. “Not even a first kiss? I thought that was a monumental event for a young lady. Better even than encountering dragons and pixies.”

She blushed and began to fidget. “Let us speak of something else.”

She was never going to admit she had yet to be kissed by a beau. This was perhaps her greatest regret, for she had been young and too uncertain of herself. She was so scared to trust any man that she had trusted no one and never experienced a first kiss. Nor was she foolish enough to allow herself to be compromised by some scheming fortune hunter who would then insist on marrying her to “save” her reputation.

But amid all her wariness and secure defenses, she had missed out not only on the thrill of a first kiss but on the chance of a true and enduring love.

That hurt most of all. She would never marry or have children of her own. She would go to her grave never having been kissed in a romantic and enrapturing way.

Was this not the most pathetic thing imaginable?

Perhaps she would ask Lord Aubrey to kiss her before the house party ended and he returned to London. One kiss before he dropped her like a stone now that he understood the sort of family she would bring along with her, should they ever marry.

Ha! Marriage? Even under the best circumstances, it remained an impossible dream. Her parents were as bad as a plague.

But in thinking of kisses, she knew Lord Aubrey was not the one she wanted for her precious first. She wanted Connor, but how could she ever ask him? He was the only man whose lips she wanted touching hers, the only man she completely trusted. He would always be honest with her.

However, they were friends and neighbors. Could they share one kiss and then proceed with their lives as usual? Or would it change everything and she would lose his friendship, too?

No, it would be too risky. Losing this precious rapport she had with Connor was too upsetting to consider.

Connor continued to eye her intently, and she knew the moment he became aware of her secret. “Eden, have you never been kissed before?”

She avoided answering the question by shooting out of her chair when her father happened to emit a timely howl. “I had better see to him.” The stitches had to be painful as the doctor put them in.

Connor clamped his hand on her wrist. “There is nothing you can do but hover over him, and that will only make him behave worse. He is going to continue howling because he is not the stoic type.”

She stopped trying to tug out of his grip that was not tight, merely persistent. “Stoic?” She laughed mirthlessly. “No, my parents shall never be known for their grace under pressure.”

“Those stitches will hurt a little, but he will survive,” Connor assured her. “The doctor knows what he is doing.”

At her nod, he released her.

“Finish your pie, Eden.” He refilled her glass of lemonade and then cut each of them another generous slice of pie.

Her father howled again.

Connor placed his hand over hers. “You must have smelled the odd, faintly sickly smell when we walked in. The doctor has already numbed the area of the wound, so I think your father is shouting more out of indignation than any serious pain. I’ve had stitches myself.”

“You have? What happened?”

“My upper arm was sliced during a battle in Spain. The army surgeon sewed me up, and I was back on the battlefield within an hour afterward. I’m sure I was fairly useless to my regiment, but no one ever complained.”

“I’m sure you were valiant and your fellow soldiers were heartened to see you back with them. How many stitches?”

“Thirty.”

“Oh, Connor. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It was nothing. Others fared worse.”

Her hands were shaking as she raised the glass to her lips. “I’m sure it was quite something. But you make it appear insignificant because you are brave and heroic. My father is a spoiled child.”

As though to prove her point, her father began bellowing invectives at the doctor. It was yet another humiliation to endure, but Dr. Weaver was familiar with her family by now. She would apologize to him profusely once he was done.

On a brighter note, did this not prove all was well with her father? He was alive and back to his usual bellicose form. His lung capacity was undiminished.

This also meant her mother was no longer doomed to spend her days as a criminal on the run.

Could she ask for a better outcome?

Connor was still watching her. He had forgotten about their prior conversation…she hoped. “Yum, the pie is delicious and the lemonade refreshing. Don’t you think so? What is your favorite pie, Connor?”

He leaned closer. “Eden, I see right through you.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” She had dug through one generous slice of pie and was determined to keep digging into the second piece, and a third if it meant keeping her mouth full and her unable to speak. She was not going to discuss her lack of a first kiss.

But Connor was not through probing her about it.

Why did he care? It was not as though he was ever going to kiss her in the ways she had made up in her diary. Yes, she had written all about his splendid kisses, every word a complete fabrication.

“You cannot choose Aubrey for a first kiss,” he muttered.

She coughed. Or was it a sneeze? Maybe something of a snoffle. “Why are you remarking on this? What makes you think I haven’t been kissed a thousand times already? Well, perhaps not that many. Do you think I have not been kissed at least once in my entire life?”

He sighed. “It so happens that this is exactly what I think.”

“Well then, keep your thoughts to yourself,” she said, shoving more pie into her mouth.

“Fine, but I will say this… If someone is ever to kiss you, it needs to be me.”

Of all the conversations she had ever thought to have today, this wasn’t one of them. She hastily swallowed the last of her bite and stared at him. “Why must it be you, Connor?”

And why was she being stupidly defensive when this was exactly what she had been wishing for? Had she not written pages and pages of kissing scenes between them in her diary? Hot kisses. Sweet kisses. French kisses (whatever they were). Tender kisses. Blazing, singe-one’s-eyebrows-off kisses.

His kisses.

She had better burn that diary before anyone got their hands on it.

Here he was, offering her the very kiss she had only thought possible in her dreams. And there she was, rejecting it.

“Never mind,” he said, drawing back. “It doesn’t have to be me. After all, why wouldn’t you prefer a younger man? Just don’t let it be Aubrey.”

“Why not him?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just don’t trust him. Besides, a first kiss should be something special, given by someone who cares for you, someone you trust never to hurt you. I thought you trusted me, that’s all.”

“I do trust you.” She stared at her hands that were now clasped and resting on her lap. “I trust you more than anyone else in the entire world.”

She trusted him with her very heart. But what if she gave it to him and he did not want it?

She took a deep breath. To her horror, tears began to form in her eyes. “Oh, dear. Ignore me, Connor.”

He reached over and gave her cheek a light caress. “All right. Forget I ever brought it up. It was a stupid idea. I just did not want you to be kissed for the first time and be disappointed.”

“Nor do I. Let me think about it, will you?”

He cast her a Silver Duke smile, the sort that was beguiling and utterly heart melting. “All right.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, now that you know my humiliating secret…can you explain what I am missing and why it should not be anyone but you?”

He laughed. “Curious, are you?”

She nodded.

There was not a hint of teasing in his voice as he said, “Because of who you are, Eden. I know you are intelligent and independent, but you are also sweeter than anyone I know. Your heart is soft and vulnerable despite all the barriers you have erected around it. So a first kiss needs to be magical for you. More than that, it needs to be a perfect moment of enchantment. I understand this, and I understand you . I am going to do this right for you. Moonlight. Music. Warm summer night.”

Her eyes widened as he spoke. “Tonight?”

“Perhaps.” He leaned back and stretched his long legs before him. “The moment has to feel right. I’ll know it when I come upon it.”

“And you will kiss me?”

He cast her another Silver Duke smile. “Yes, Eden. I will kiss you till your toes curl, and it will be unforgettable.”

Her heart beat wildly for this. For him . For the hope of his kiss.

“Connor, if you are jesting about this, I will dust off my diary and scribble the most terrible things about you in it.”

He chuckled. “Just what awful things will you write?”

She laughed along with him. “That it felt as though I was kissing a frog. Or being licked by a dog.”

“And what will you write if you like the kiss?”