Indeed, if he was of a mind to marry…
Steven shook his head on that thought. He had no time for a wife or children. His life was dedicated to the hotel. He worked days and nights and slept very little. Soon, he’d be expanding, once renovations on the building he’d purchased in Bath were completed. Manchester would be next and then Edinburgh, he hoped. Eventually, he’d have turned the fortune his father left him into his very own empire. Unlike Nigel, who’d burnt through his five thousand pounds in the space of three years.
Unfathomable.
“How did the idea for a hotel come about?” Miss Faulkner asked when neither of them had spoken for a while. “Was it something you stumbled into or was it a long desired dream of yours?”
“A bit of both, I suppose.” He drew her toward the edge of the path in order to give a couple of gentlemen riders more clearance. One of the horses snorted, the sound of hooves clopping against the graveled ground momentarily distracting Steven as they trotted past. “As a boy, I used to sketch buildings because it was easier for me than drawing landscapes, flowers in vases, and people. Straight lines made sense. As I grew older and became more aware of the benefit of the right room size and location – the importance of a sunroom facing south – I started designing interiors with the goal of creating the sort of perfection I’d not yet encountered in any of the buildings I’d lived in or visited.”
“The Imperial certainly has a graceful appeal grounded in symmetry. It’s spacious, yet practical, with captivating design elements I could gaze upon for hours. Much like in a museum.”
Her observation pleased him immensely since he’d always viewed the hotel as more than a building. To Steven, it was a work of art – a creation he was incredibly proud of.
“When I inherited from my father, I thought to construct the perfect building, but I wanted it to be more than a home. I wanted others to enjoy it as well. So the idea of a hotel began to take shape. There weren’t many and none were located near Parliament, so it seemed like a good opportunity.”
“From what I’ve observed, you made a tremendous success of it,” she said. “I’m both impressed and happy on your behalf.”
The authenticity of her words prompted him to draw her closer. When had anyone last taken pleasure in his success with such guileless abandon? Nigel had only ever suggested Steven was taking on more than he was capable of while Edward, though supportive, had simply made a brief statement of approval.
“Thank you, Miss Faulkner. Your appreciation means a great deal.” More than she could possibly know – so much in fact he was tempted to pull her behind a tree and kiss her.
Lord, he was tempted to do so for countless other reasons too, like the fact that the healthy hue in her cheeks made her lips appear even pinker. Or that he’d been thinking of little else since last night, in spite of his best efforts to the contrary. In the end, it all came down to one simple thing. He was a man and she was a stunning young woman. He’d have to be dead not to want her.
“Are you any good at skipping stones, Mr. Donahue?” Miss Faulkner angled her face toward him as she posed the question, allowing the sun to catch her eyes in a dazzling effect that rendered him momentarily speechless.
“Skip stones?” he said when he realized she was grinning at him while awaiting his answer. “I’ve not done so in years.”
“Want to give it a go?” She indicated a spot to their left where the Serpentine curved away from the path. The water glistened, rolling in soft waves stirred by the breeze. A few ducks farther along bobbed up and down as they swam.
Amused by her suggestion, Steven led her across a patch of grass toward the embankment. Stones of various shapes and sizes lay scattered about to create a speckled border. Releasing Miss Faulkner he crouched to pick up the flattest stones he could find. Straightening, he placed them in his palm which he extended for her observation.
She studied his selection for a moment, then peered up into his gaze. “May I?”
For some absurd reason her question made his heart thud harder. He nodded and her fingers, now gloveless he noted, brushed his skin as she carefully plucked the stone of her choosing. Every nerve and muscle within him collided until they were cinched together so tightly he struggled to catch his breath.
It was just a touch, he told himself, and yet it was so much more – the awakening of his senses, a reminder that this woman had the power to bring him to his knees if he let her, a magnetic pull unlike any other he’d ever experienced.
“You’re staring at me,” she murmured as she withdrew, taking the sweet scent of honey that infused every bar of soap the Imperial offered with her, allowing it to drift away on the breeze.
“It’s hard not to,” he confessed, deciding there was no point in denying the obvious. “When you are so incredibly beautiful.”
Her lips parted just enough for desire to climb even higher. The sweetest pink hue flooded her cheeks to match the heat filling his blood. Innocent eyes held him captive, breathless, and ready for anything she might allow in that moment.
“That’s quite a compliment, coming from not only the kindest but also the handsomest man I have ever met.”
A bashful smile caught her lips and it took every restraint he possessed not to lean in and kiss her right then, to forget the silent pledge he’d made last night, forbidding himself from making a move. She was the inexperienced one, the one who’d be giving up most. He could not take advantage no matter how much he wanted to do so.
“I’m not sure Mr. Greene thinks me kind,” he said as he turned away, positioned his stone, and flung it across the water. It skipped three times before vanishing into the azure depths. “Mr. Grant neither.”
“Perhaps because they were undeserving of it,” she said as she sent her own stone flying. It hopped and bounced an impressive six times, suggesting she’d had plenty of practice.
“Is this your attempt at gaining the upper hand in a game you know you excel at?” he asked with a smirk while searching for another stone. “I bested you at billiards and now you seek to outdo me at this in return?”
“My grandfather taught me how to skip stones in Central Park. It’s one of my fondest childhood memories, besides making daisy chains with my mother during our Sunday picnics.”
His heart smiled at the thought of her girlish self, taking pleasure in life without concern for what the future would hold. “Pinafore and pigtails?”
A smirk drew her lips into an impish smile. “Pinafore and braids.”
Happiness settled inside him as he made another attempt with his stone. He liked the image she’d crafted in his mind’s eye. “My grandfather taught me how to fly kites. Papa on the other hand showed me how to build a paper boat. We sent a whole fleet out on the lake one summer, with one of my tin soldiers playing captain.”
“That sounds like great fun.” She turned toward him, her lips pressed together while letting her gaze sweep over his body. “I think you need a wider stance and then a quicker flick of the wrist. Also, the stone’s shape is paramount to success. Try this one.”
Steven accepted the offering and positioned himself as she instructed, but when he swept his arm back, prepared to throw, she stopped him. Her hand caught his and his heart nearly stumbled right out of his chest. “What is it?”