“That’s…cruel.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s the only thing I can do.”
She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “You’re so blasted stubborn.”
Something that looked like sorrow flashed in his eyes. But it vanished before she could be sure. “I expect you hate me now.”
Serena was angry and piqued and cringing with mortification. But the truth was that when she examined her emotions, she didn’t hate him. What she mainly felt was piercing regret that his exquisite kisses were out of bounds. Which was lunatic when she meant to accept Paul’s proposal on Boxing Day.
Her silence made him sigh. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”
“For kissing me?” she asked through lips as stiff as wood. “Or for giving me my marching orders?”
Faint humor eased his expression. “Both.”
With a sharp click of her heels on tile, she crossed to collect her belongings. The cold in the summerhouse was biting. Strange she only noticed now.
“I’m glad you find this funny.” With short, sharp movements, she put on her hat and gloves and turned toward the door with a defiant swing of her hips. “I’d hate to
think educating a clumsy beginner provided no entertainment.”
“Serena…” He stepped forward, but she raised her crop to gesture him back. In a distant corner of her mind, she knew he was right to question their actions. But that didn’t take the sting away. Or make her any more prepared to be fair to him.
His kisses had flung her into a dazzling new world. Now without warning, he hurled her back onto the sharp rocks of harsh reality. “My thanks for deigning to show me what I’ve been missing, Lord Hallam.”
“Lord Hallam?” Those expressive brows slanted in not entirely convincing mockery. “You really are angry with me.”
She didn’t smile. “You won’t tease me back into charity with you, Giles.”
“At least I teased you back into calling me Giles. Can’t we just admit we both made a mistake and pretend it never happened?” With an attempt at his old nonchalance, he leaned one shoulder against the pillar.
The last few days had taught her more about Giles Farraday than the previous eighteen years. He might want her to believe he laughed off this dismissal, but she didn’t believe him. She also knew that he’d let stampeding elephants trample him before he explained himself further.
She nodded coldly in his direction. “You know, I’m not sure we can.”
She caught his shocked dismay, as she turned toward the door and marched out. Anger, and hurt, and a sexual frustration she’d never felt before Giles had kissed her roiled in her stomach. Tears she was too proud to shed stung her eyes.
How dare that oaf Giles Farraday make her cry?
Gracelessly she scrambled into the saddle. As she wheeled the horse around, Giles appeared at the top of the steps. At least he was smart enough not to offer to help her mount. The touch of those deft hands would be unbearable. If only because it provided a painful reminder of the pleasures he denied her.
She waited for him to speak. Apologize again. Or accuse her of overreacting. Or least likely, but most longed for, call her inside for more kisses. Because the awful truth was that even now, if he invited her back into his arms, she’d go. Pride be damned.
But he continued to watch her with an unwavering regard. And this time, he didn’t pretend to indifference.
For an intense interval, their eyes met, and she wondered how she could ever have overlooked him. He was the most striking man she’d ever met.
Her horse stamped in impatience at the delay, but Serena held the mare and studied Giles, imprinting his image on her mind forever. The tall, lean body. The rumpled black hair. The quirky, intelligent face that lately seemed so much more appealing than mere good looks.
Something strong and dark rushed through her, something that wasn’t a game at all.
With an abrupt gesture, she set her heels to her horse so the mare bounded into a gallop. But as she dashed through the trees, nothing could erase the memory of Giles standing, proud and solitary, in that frame of white marble.
Solitary. And heartbreakingly lonely.
Chapter Nine
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