How to Turn a Frog into a Prince - Bree Wolf Page 0,26

feel like.

Now, she knew.

And she had been right to seize the moment.

For although Nathanial did tense in surprise at the feel of her lips against his own, the longing she had seen in his eyes soon pushed all restraint away. His hands tightened on her, pulling her closer, as he returned her kiss in a heartbreakingly gentle way. There was something utterly sweet in the way he held her, the way his knuckles brushed over her cheek before his hand slipped into her hair.

For a moment, Charlaine feared the pins holding her mask in place would suffer. However, Nathanial’s caresses felt like the delicate touch of a feather. She could feel his caring heart in every touch and knew that, somehow, she had reached him tonight. Here and now, he cared for her, for Nathanial Caswell was not the kind of man who would return a woman’s kiss without feeling something. They had shared a precious moment, and it had been exactly what he had needed.

In truth, Charlaine had needed it as well.

Lifting his head, Nathanial looked down at her, a hint of contrition in his eyes. “I…I shouldn’t have done this.”

Charlaine smiled at him. “You didn’t. I did.” She searched his face. “Do you regret it?”

Slowly, he shook his head. His hands finally released her and he took a step back. “I cannot say that I do.” His gaze lingered on hers. “Why did you…?”

Leaning back against the balustrade, Charlaine smiled. “Because I wanted to. Because it felt as though you wanted to as well. Was I wrong?”

Running a hand through his hair, Nathanial turned away, trying to hide the grin that stole onto his face. “We hardly know each other.” He chuckled. “In fact, we don’t know each other at all.”

“Then tell me something about yourself,” Charlaine dared him. “Is your brother like you?”

Looking back at her, Nathanial paused, his blue eyes calculating as he no doubt considered how much to share with a stranger, his mind never allowing his tongue free rein. “We’re like day and night,” he finally said. “He is daring and bold, charming and easily makes friends wherever he goes. He never worries and…” A heavy sigh left his lips.

Holding his gaze, Charlaine moved closer. “You don’t truly believe that, do you?”

Nathanial frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s true.”

“Everybody worries,” Charlaine objected. “As soon as you love, you worry. You said he is married?” Nathanial nodded. “And he loves his wife?” Again, he nodded. “I dare you to ask him. But I guarantee that he worries for her and no doubt for you as well.” Her gaze narrowed as she chose her words carefully. “Is that why you’re here tonight? Was it your brother who urged you to attend?”

Running a hand over his face, Nathanial stared at her. “How do you do this? How do you know exactly…?” He shook his head. “Yes, a friend of his invited me here tonight. He convinced me that…” His lips thinned, and Charlaine could see that leaving behind his worries was a constant struggle for him.

“Do you wish you were more like him?”

The look that came to his face belied that the thought was not foreign to him. “It seems an easier way to live.”

Charlaine shrugged. “Easier isn’t always better.”

“I’m confused,” Nathanial replied with a frown. “Earlier, it sounded as though you were in favor of…of being more daring, of taking chances, of—”

“Yes, if that is what you want!” she exclaimed. “If you feel the temptation, then by all means give in and see what happens. But don’t be someone you’re not.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Don’t ever be someone you’re not.”

His gaze narrowed as he watched her. “Now, you tell me something about yourself.”

Charlaine laughed at the daring gleam in his eyes. “Well, if you insist. I—”

A man stepped through the French doors and onto the terrace in that moment, his simple attire instantly revealing him as a servant. “Pardon me,” he said, and Charlaine tensed as she recognized him. “Miss—?”

“Yes, can we help you?” Charlaine interrupted before Jacob could foolishly blurt out her name. She hurried toward him. “Are you looking for someone?” It would seem something had happened that required Pierce’s attention or Albert would not have sent the young footman to retrieve him. She dropped her voice as she reached his side. “Lord Markham disappeared down that corridor over there,” she whispered, nodding her head in the general direction. She had glimpsed Pierce and Caroline in her rather revealing red gown slip