Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,56

been with me, I never would have seen the bait fish lurking so close to the road in my single-mindedness to explore the bridge. And I probably wouldn't have noticed the beaver, either."

"We agreed that each of us had learned something from the other's unique perspective."

Libby stopped, realizing that she'd related much more than she ever intended to. Chris was watching her closely through the darkness, seemingly absorbed in every word she said.

After a moment of silence passed between them, he finally responded. "So what have you learned from me, if anything?"

Libby thought for a minute, staring up into the starlit sky as she did. "I've come to see now that your plan for Harte's Desire, the site I should say, is a good one. The town desperately needs more office space in addition to the tax ratables your project will bring.” Libby looked at him with open honesty as she spoke. Although the garden's broad shadows made his features barely discernable, she could see he was listening to her avidly.

"But the mansion, Chris. Harte's Desire. It's one of a kind. It's unique, and there's no other like it. Once you tear it down, it's gone forever. Build your office buildings and parking lots. But spare Harte's Desire. Please? I know in my heart it would make a splendid conference center."

Libby watched Chris carefully for a reaction to her words, hoping to find him moved by her plea. But he was lost in thought, staring into the distance, silent and cold.

"You're not going to save Harte's Desire, are you?" she finally asked, her low voice shaking with barely contained emotion.

Chris turned on the bench to face her.

"I can't, Libby," he responded quietly. "I'm a businessman and the balance sheet tells me I'd be an idiot to pump millions into a run-down twenty-five room oddity for the sake of preserving a historic whimsy. It just doesn't add up." He paused. "Besides, I'm already helping the Orphanage and historical society and that's more than enough old buildings for me."

He gazed at her steadily, his eyes never wavering from hers. "You ask too much when you ask me to save Harte's Desire."

Unable to endure the sincerity of his words, Libby quickly looked away, feeling a lump of emotion welling in her throat.

"I'm sorry, Chris," she finally managed to say. "Sorry you can't be persuaded. Sorry that Harte's Desire will be bulldozed in the name of progress. But I'm not sorry I tried to convince you otherwise. I had to, or I would always regret my silence. The mansion has been special to me all my life."

A sudden gust of wind caught Libby's golden curls, loosening several strands. Reflexively, Chris reached up to push them back into place, then gently cupped her face in his hands.

"I admire you greatly for trying," he said tenderly, softly running his fingers along her cheeks.

Before Libby could protest, Chris pulled her close and bent his head towards hers, their lips a whisper apart.

His kiss was hesitant at first, full of apology and restraint. Yet he lingered there, slowly tracing the outline of her full lips with the tip of his tongue.

Too surprised to react, Libby sat immobile on the bench, frozen, thinking she should break away from Chris's embrace as she had before. But as he caressed her lightly with his tongue, she knew she was helpless to escape the feelings of passion he aroused in her. She moaned softly, then met his kiss with the urgency of unleashed desire, knowing all the while it was pure madness to respond. Reaching up to cradle his head with her hands, she pulled him close to her, savoring the feel of his dark, wavy hair against her sensitive fingertips.

She almost gasped when his tongue probed gently between her lips, parting them to explore the sweetness inside. The maddening assault on her senses continued as his hands slowly traveled down her neck, behind her shoulders, then deep along her spine. Libby felt the persistent ache between her legs burst forth into a steady throb. She returned his kiss, now equally passionate and demanding, with a fervor to match, and heard him growl in response.

Chris arose from the bench, pulling Libby up with him as he did so, then drew her against his muscular frame. Ignited by the closeness of their embrace, Libby wrapped her arms around his solid chest. The feel of his engorged manhood rubbing through the silk of her dress sent hot shivers of desire through her. Emboldened by