Never Love A Stranger Part 38

"And I love you, Annie." He tilted her head up and kissed her. "I intend to make a fabulous husband as well." "You will," she whispered. "I have absolutely no doubt of it."

Acknowledgement Thanks to the late great Isaac Asimov, whose stories about robots fascinated me from the time I was in junior high onward. I adore every last one of his robot stories and novels, but I was most inspired by his brilliant six-page short story, "Robot Dreams," and his novella "The Bicentennial Man," which is the cla.s.sic exploration of artificial intelligence, and my absolute favorite story ever. An excerpt from Love Remembered A colonial Virginia romance Finalist for Best Historical Romance in the 2003 Sizzler Awards Coming from NCP in trade paperback in October/November, 2004 Cordelia paused and looked out over the vista. Following her gaze, Gwaltney saw they had walked down the terraced steps leading away from the mansion and stood on the rather steep bank of the ca.n.a.l. Not far away, a footbridge in the Chinese style arched gracefully across the water. It was a lovely setting--quite likely the most romantic area in the entire formal garden.

Why the h.e.l.l had she brought him here'

He eyed her warily, but her attention seemed to be caught by their surroundings. "It's beautiful here," he commented, probing for information. This hardly seemed like the sort of place a woman bent on preserving her virtue at all costs would bring a man she disliked. It made no sense, none at all. He resolved to be cautious.

"I like it," she said with a little sigh. "Every time I come to the Governor's mansion, I always like to come see the ca.n.a.l."

Gwaltney reached out and gently caressed her tightly bound hair. "It's lovely," he said, permitting his voice to drop into a lower register, "but not as lovely as you."

Cordelia turned her head and stared at him for a long moment, then, to his surprise, she burst out laughing. "Oh, please," she sputtered. "Surely you can do better than that."

"I beg your pardon'" Gwaltney said blankly, so baffled by this unexpected reaction that he dropped his hand with a touch of embarra.s.sment. It was true he was somewhat unaccustomed to giving women compliments, but he had never had one go into a fit of the giggles before.

"And you said you were always honest!" she hooted, laughing harder.

"I try to be," Gwaltney said stiffly.

"Then you should try harder. Lovely!" She giggled again, then got her laughter under control. "Next I suppose you'll be telling me that my eyes are the blue of the summer sky, that my hair is as smooth as silk, and that my skin is as pale and flawless as marble."

Gwaltney grinned reluctantly, aware that his attempt at a compliment had been transparently insincere. The truth was he had scarcely given a thought to her appearance. In fact, he hadn't had the faintest idea what color her eyes were until this moment. "How unfortunate that you have foreseen all my compliments, Mistress Ashton. Although I believe I should have likened your skin to alabaster rather than marble."

"You will forgive me if I say I believe you are less than honest, Mr. Harris."

"Perhaps I was," Gwaltney admitted. "The truth is that I am not certain what to say to you. I am, quite frankly, unaccustomed to wooing well-bred young ladies."

Cordelia heard the insecurity in his tone, and it affected her in a way his compliments had not. He was only masquerading as a gentleman, and thus was most likely unsure of the correct way to behave in any given situation. She could not help but feel sympathy for him.

She did her best to harden her heart against him, reminding herself that all he wanted was a wife. Any well-bred woman would do. In that respect, he was very much like the man who had broken her heart years ago.

That thought made her voice tarter than she had intended. "I suppose in the past you have wooed women with money rather than compliments."

"If by that you mean that I have spent my time with wh.o.r.es rather than ladies, you are correct. Given the choice, I find that I rather prefer wh.o.r.es. They don't refuse to a.s.sociate with a man due to his lack of breeding."

Cordelia felt her cheeks pinken at his blunt words. "But surely I am not the first woman you have actually courted."

"No. There were two others. The first laughed in my face when I brought her a cup of punch at a rout. She told me she would rather die of thirst than accept it."

"What about the second'"

"She fell into a swoon when I dared to approach her at a ball. Her father publicly threatened to kill me if I spoke to her again."

She heard the stiff anger beneath his quiet tone and realized for the first time that despite his lack of breeding, Gwaltney Harris was an extremely proud man. The rejections he had suffered had obviously offended him deeply. It was, she thought, surprising that he would dare to try a third time.

"I see," she said quietly.

"But I hasten to add that those young ladies were almost courteous compared to you, Mistress Ashton. I have never met a woman who can utter insults so glibly. You have a true gift for discourtesy, madam."

Any sympathy she might have felt for him quickly dissipated. She glared at him. "Is that intended as a compliment'"

He shrugged. "As I recall, you did say you wanted me to be sincere."

Cordelia scowled. She had momentarily allowed herself to be distracted by her sympathy for him, but his curt words made her recall the reason she had led him out here. She had a trap to bait. Doing her best to simulate tremulous shyness, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. Beneath the satin of his coat sleeve, his muscles were hard and unyielding. "I never meant to be so unkind," she said softly.

Gwaltney looked down at her with open cynicism. "Of course you didn't," he drawled. "No doubt when you called me excruciatingly dull, you meant it kindly."

Cordelia winced. "I ... I didn't realize other women had been so cruel to you," she fabricated hastily. "Had I realized, I surely would have tried to treat you more kindly."

"Nonsense," Gwaltney said shortly. "Had you realized, you most likely would have studied their techniques."

She managed to stifle the startled giggle that rose to her lips. "I'm not as awful as that," she protested.

"Indeed you are. In fact, you are the most singularly ill-natured young woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter."

"More compliments, Mr. Harris'"

"The simple truth, Mistress Ashton."

Cordelia stared up at him. She knew she should feel relieved that he found her manners repulsive. It

meant he would not be pursuing her any further. And yet, in some distant corner of her mind, she wished he didn't despise her. She wondered what it would be like to be courted by a man like this, a thoroughly masculine, dangerously attractive man.

"I don't want you to hate me," she whispered, letting her eyelashes sweep down to conceal her eyes and tilting her face up. She was careful to keep her eyes slitted open. "Please say you don't hate me." "Oddly enough, I don't. Despite your childish ways, despite the manner in which you have repeatedly snubbed me, I still find you attractive. I can't imagine why. It can't be your looks."

Cordelia bit back the annoyed reply that sprang automatically to her lips. "I'm glad to hear that," she said softly. She swayed toward him, as if overcome by emotion, and waited. And still he did not move. She squinted at him through slitted eyes, wondering what he was waiting for. Surely she had been obvious enough, leading him to a secluded part of the garden, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g her eyes shut, and pursing her lips like a fish. She was behaving precisely like a giggling young ninny desperate to snare a husband. Surely he realized that he ought to kiss her.

Instead, he spoke. "What are you playing at, Cordelia'"

She jumped at his hard tone and opened her eyes. "I beg your pardon'"

"You're up to something. What is it'"

"I'm not up to anything!" she protested. "How can you be so suspicious'"

"I am not suspicious. Merely prudent."

She hesitated a long moment. "I just wanted to kiss you," she said in a soft voice. It was, she realized,

closer to the truth than she would have liked.

There was a long silence. At last he said in a strangled whisper, "What'"

"I wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you," she repeated softly.

She saw the bewilderment on his face. He stood silent for long moments, staring blankly at her, apparently at a complete loss for words. Something fiercely savage, something primal, abruptly ignited in the depths of his eyes, and he lowered his head, bending toward her swiftly'.

end.