The silence wore on and she strove for patience. He seemed in no hurry to answer for his obnoxious behavior—which only angered her further. Katherine would return soon, which meant there wasn’t much time. “Are you going to explain yourself?”
The remaining champagne disappeared into his mouth, and the strong column of his throat moved as he swallowed. “I don’t have to like him, Maddie.”
“You never even gave him a chance before you started sniping at him.”
Harrison reclined until he was flat on the wooden floor, his hands resting on his stomach. He said nothing, and she sighed in defeat. This was exhausting. If he couldn’t be honest with her, then she was wasting her time.
She started to rise, but Harrison reached over and wrapped a hand around her wrist, stopping her. “Wait, stay.”
“Why? Katherine will return soon. You don’t need me.”
“Do not go,” he said, his voice low and harsh as he propped up on an elbow. “Not until I explain.”
She folded her legs to one side, adjusted her dress and perched on her hip. “Then explain.”
The wind whistled through the gazebo’s top and created a small pocket of intimacy on the floor, a hidden place where only the two of them existed. A muscle in Harrison’s jaw worked, his stare locked on where their bodies were touching. She hadn’t realized he was still holding on to her. His thumb rubbed her skin, stroking, and her flesh sizzled under his fingers, the warmth spreading up her arm and to her breasts. Down between her legs. The touch felt possessive, not the least bit gentle.
So why wasn’t she pulling free?
Without releasing her, he sat up and locked eyes with her. Blue flames licked in the depths of his irises, heat like she’d never seen before, and her mouth went dry. “I am jealous,” he whispered. “I acted like an ass because I am consumed with jealousy, so much so that I cannot think straight, Mads.”
Her heart thumped as wicked pleasure flooded her veins, a rush of unexpected emotion that rose up like a wave . . . until she remembered.
Betrothal. Lockwood.
A chill went through her, chasing away any residual heat, and she jerked out of Harrison’s grip. “You shouldn’t say such things to me.”
His brows shot up. “Why? You were jealous of Esmée. How is this different?”
“Because you are not marrying her. You are not betrothed to another woman. I have a future decided, whereas you do not.”
“Your future is not yet decided, Maddie.”
How could he say that? “As of two hours ago, it is. I am promised to the Duke of Lockwood.”
“Who merely wants the dowry.”
“You act as if that is an uncommon occurrence.”
“True, but he doesn’t know you. He didn’t teach you to skip a rock or dig up clams. Or spend hours with you on the back lawn catching fireflies, making each other laugh.”
“We were children. That is what children do together.”
“The only person I did those things with was you. And unlike your fiancé, I actually care about you.”
She blinked, mouth open, at a loss as to what to say.
“I . . .” He blew out a long breath. “You asked for the truth and I did not want to lie.”
A part of her wished he had, that he’d kept this to himself. The knowledge threatened to strangle her, her chest tight with the ramifications of his revelation. Her mother had been right: Harrison was jealous of Lockwood. That implied Harrison had feelings for her, feelings that went deeper than friendship.
How was that possible? They had been out of contact with each other for the last three years, all by his design. Now he had returned and, what, developed a crush on her? It didn’t make any sense. Was this why he’d nearly kissed her on the terrace?
And why he’d stared at her so intently at dinner?
She rubbed her temples as if to stop her mind from spinning. None of this mattered. Not one bit. She was engaged to another man, a fact she hadn’t hidden from him.
So why was he doing this now?
“I have no choice, Mads,” he said. “It has to be now.”
He always had an uncanny ability to see what she was thinking. “Stop reading my thoughts.”
“I can’t help it, not when I know you so well.”
“Your timing could not be worse, Harrison.”
“I am aware.”
“I am betrothed to the duke.”
“Again, I am aware.”
He was so calm it only agitated her further. “Three years! Three years you were away without a word. And now you’ve returned, storm into my life, and talk of jealousy and kissing? It makes no sense.”
“Maddie—”
“Stop.”
She slid on the wooden floor, putting distance between them, but he inched closer, as if reluctant to part from her. “Something is happening between us,” he said quietly. Seductively. “After all these years, something has changed between us, even if you don’t wish to admit it.”
Oh, God. She covered her mouth with a hand, frightened of what she might say. Because he was right. From the instant he’d returned she’d noticed the changes in him, from his broad shoulders and thick thighs, to his flirtatious and intense manner. The confident way he moved and the determination burning in his gaze. Her stomach now fluttered the instant he walked into a room.
Far from offering comfort, however, the realization terrified her.
For as long as she could remember, he had been the impetuous one, cajoling her to join in his antics. She had been the steady presence, a calm voice of reason to keep him grounded. Like when he’d tried to take the skiff out in a thunderstorm and she’d stopped him, saying it was too dangerous.
This time the danger was right in front of her, so handsome and alluring. If she lost her head, her entire life would be ruined. Lockwood would be devastated, not to mention her parents, and the scandal would be horrific. She’d never be able to hold her head up on Fifth Avenue ever again.
Go, go, go. If nothing else she had to put distance between them.
Drawing in a fortifying lungful of ocean air, she pushed to her feet. “This was a bad idea. I regret I brought it up.”
“In other words, you wish you did not know.”
“I should return to the house.” Damn and blast. Where on earth was Katherine? Maddie sent a longing glance toward the path, but there was no sign of her friend. “We shouldn’t be alone.”
Gracefully, he unfolded his limbs and stood. “There’s no need to be afraid of me. I won’t pounce on you.”
She could hear the hurt in his voice, the contrition. No doubt he wished he hadn’t been honest with her. She quickly decided the only thing to do was give him honesty in return.
“I am not afraid of you, Harrison. I am afraid of myself.”
Chapter Ten
A flat expanse of lawn stretched behind the tennis court, the ground a lush green in the afternoon sun. Carefully groomed boxwood bushes edged the grass on three sides. On the lawn, wickets were arranged, along with the stakes, in a familiar figure-eight pattern, while mallets and balls waited nearby.
Though he longed to be elsewhere, Harrison stood alone in the tent aside the court, waiting for the rest of the guests to arrive for a game of croquet. He’d left the gazebo a few minutes ago, having sat there long after Maddie hurried off and disappeared into the chateau.