How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,25

hers instantly, a reassurance that he would keep her safe.

Nathanial Caswell was that kind of man, was he not? Someone who looked out for those he cared for. Someone who put their well-being above his own. Someone who was honest and true and kind.

Someone who had been hurt because of it.

Someone who now feared it would happen again.

When Charlaine had glimpsed him from across the room as he had approached the lady in blue, she had felt her heart crumble at the forlorn look upon his face. He had seemed so lost. He still did, but at least now he was smiling.

“Aren’t you afraid we’ll fall?” Nathanial called to her as they spun in ever faster circles.

Charlaine laughed. “This joy will be worth a bruise or two.”

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. “What will people think if they see us?” He glanced at the French doors…and his footing shifted, throwing her balance off as well.

Charlaine felt her left hand slip from his as her feet tried to even out the sudden shift in position. Nathanial’s eyes widened and, instantly, snapped back to her. His other hand gripped hers more tightly, and she could feel his arm flex as he tugged her toward him. Their feet slowed as they swayed across the terrace, and then Charlaine all but fell against him. His arm came around her, holding her to him, keeping her from falling as he braced himself on the balustrade with the other.

Looking up, Charlaine stared into his eyes. They were both breathing fast, the pulse in his neck hammering at the same speed as her own. Still, he quickly matched her smile, something irresistibly tempting lingering in his blue gaze. “You must be mad,” he whispered then, but it sounded for all intents and purposes like a compliment. “Utterly and truly mad.”

“You’re smiling,” Charlaine observed with a smirk.

Nathanial laughed. “I suppose I am.” Still staring at her, he shook his head. “I came here tonight to…” His mouth opened and closed, a loss for words only too visible in his eyes. “I never thought I could…”

“You felt something,” Charlaine whispered, all too aware that he was still holding her in his arms. But was he?

Nathanial nodded. “Yes, I felt something. Perhaps that was why I came, to feel something different, to be someone different…if only for one night.”

“A reprieve?”

“A reprieve,” he echoed, and the pressure of his arm around her lessened. His hand slid to her back, but did not fall away.

“Who would you want to be?” Charlaine dared him, noting the way he tried his best to suppress his American accent. Every once in a while, it slipped in, but with the music echoing around them, even out here on the terrace, it was barely noticeable. Her own English accent was almost perfect as it should be for Peter had taught her ever since she had been a little girl. She knew how to speak like the ton, but she preferred not to.

Tonight, however, was different.

“If you could be anyone,” Charlaine asked, tipping up her chin, “who would you want to be?”

Nathanial laughed. “I don’t know. Perhaps someone who doesn’t feel the constant need to think things through. Someone who acts on impulse alone. Someone who,” he drew in a slow breath, “seizes the moment.”

His gaze lingered on hers, and Charlaine could not help but notice the way he was looking at her. She felt his hand lying on her back, warm and restrained. Still, there was something…something that whispered of a longing he no doubt had not felt in a long while.

To connect with another.

To give something of himself and receive something in return.

To leave behind the bitterness that clung to every word.

Charlaine knew those feelings. She had left her home and come to England for those very reasons. To focus on the good instead of the bad. To acknowledge the tears, but strive for smiles above all else. To live again and be happy once more. “And will you?” she asked, still standing in his embrace as though she belonged there. “Seize the moment?”

Nathanial exhaled a slow breath as temptation and restraint warred within his gaze. “The truth is that we cannot escape who we are. No amount of wishful thinking can—”

Never one to think things through too thoroughly, Charlaine pulled him down into a kiss before he could convince himself that the risk was too great. Ever since he had caught her in his arms after their stumble had she wondered what his kiss would