Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,37
reminded herself sharply. The deception she was playing on him had seen to that. She was suddenly sorry she’d confided in him. She never wanted to lean on any man ever again, yet here she was pouring out her soul to someone she hardly knew. He caught her in a weak moment, she decided, then resolved to keep her vulnerability hidden. Most of all from him.
“Forgive me for unloading my burdens on you. I think the wine loosened my tongue!” she said more lightly than she felt. She eyed her half-full glass and knew it wasn’t the wine. It was Chris and the engaging way he had of giving her his undivided attention when she least expected it.
She took a deep breath and attempted to steer the conversation towards a subject fraught with less emotion. “Enough about me. Why don’t you tell me what you like about living in Philadelphia?” she asked, diving into her plate of food with a new-found hunger. “This is delicious, by the way.”
He could understand her desire to change the line of discussion and was thankful she hadn’t asked about his family history. His memories, like hers, were painful to recall and once told, left him feeling shaken and exposed. He could never tell her about the circumstances surrounding his birth. She would reject him outright, like Cynthia had. He'd learned the hard way no one could be trusted with the entire truth.
He was only too glad to discuss what he loved about the big city and was happy that Libby hadn't taken advantage of his softening to press any further about his own life story.
What was it about this woman seated next to him that made him react in new, distressing ways, he wondered?
They chatted amiably for the next hour, pausing occasionally to watch the boats sail or motor by as the sun set over the placid river. Libby finished her wine, pleased she’d kept her wits about her after her momentary loss of control, and stood to leave.
“Your shoes,” Chris said, pointing to her bare feet.
“Next time I’ll wear sandals,” she rejoined, then caught herself. “Oh heavens, I didn’t mean to imply we’d ever do this again, Chris. I really can’t be socializing with my boss.” She giggled and smiled broadly at him, his nearness making her somewhat giddy as she put her shoes back on.
“Nor should I be entertaining one of my consultants,” he admitted with a shrug.
“No need to see me out, Chris. I know the way by now.”
“But I insist.”
“You’re such a gentleman.”
He took her by the arm, gathered up her equipment in the hallway, and escorted her to her car.
Libby turned to say goodbye only to find him inches away. She nearly bumped into him, he was that close.
His gaze was so intense, the desire so obvious in his eyes, she could feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. When he reached out and gently traced her chin, she shivered with expectation. Kiss me, she thought wildly, kiss me.
Instead, Chris stepped back abruptly, breaking the magic woven spider-like around them. “Good night, Elizabeth. Drive safe,” he said stiffly before turning on his heels and walking back to the mansion.
Libby let out a long sigh of relief, unaware she’d been holding her breath. It would have been pure madness to kiss him. Thank goodness he came to his senses when he did, because she’d surely lost hers tonight.
Chapter Fourteen
Libby spread the aerial photographs in front of her, looking for the best way to access the vineyard near the river located at the outermost reaches of Harte’s Desire’s eighty waterfront acres. A path heading southwest from the rose garden, one she’d not yet explored, seemed to travel in the right direction. With a camera swinging loosely around her neck, she started along the narrow dirt covered walkway as it sloped downward towards the river.
Chris watched her from the relative safety of his dining room office. Clearly, she was setting out to find the vineyards, he determined, watching her consult the aerial images she’d shown him a few nights ago on the computer.
“Edwina,” he spoke into the intercom. “Hold my calls for the next hour or so. I need to help Elizabeth with something,” he said somewhat vaguely, knowing he did not have to explain himself to his assistant.
“Sure thing, boss,” Edwina replied a few seconds later.
Chris quickly exited the French doors overlooking the rear gardens and headed for the path Libby had chosen to follow. Overgrown and filled with