A Lasting Impression

great deal to you.”
    Sutton studied her. “I could say the same of you when you were looking at the paintings in the gallery. Your love and appreciation for art radiates from you, Claire. And I’m guessing here . . .” He squinted as though evaluating her. “But I’m betting that difference comes through in your painting too. I look forward to seeing your work on something other than a joujou and a candy dish.”
    For an instant, she looked as if she might cry, then she leaned up and put her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Sutton.”
    Surprised at her reaction, but pleased, he slid an arm around her back, gently, not wanting to hurt her where she might have been bruised in the accident.
    “May I ask you something?” she whispered, her breath warm on his neck. “For a favor, of sorts?”
    More than a little distracted by her closeness and moved by the shyness in her voice, he drew back, not really wanting to. “Ask away, as long as it doesn’t involve breaking any laws. The Tennessee courts—and Mrs. Acklen—might frown on that.”
    Her face when blank for an instant, then she gave a breathy laugh. “No, this doesn’t break any laws.”
    He smiled, touched by the timid look on her face, and also by their close proximity to each other on the bed. The doctor had checked her heartbeat earlier, and the buttons at her neckline remained loosened, the collar hanging open. He didn’t see anything he shouldn’t, but what he saw inspired thoughts he knew he shouldn’t have. Or, at least, shouldn’t encourage.
    The strong, steady beat of her heart was evidenced in the soft, inviting hollow at the base of her throat. And then there were those lips. Lips whose smile could lay him waste with the least little effort, and her eyes that—
    Were reading every thought he was having at the moment. Or seemed to be.
    Sutton took a breath even as a telling shyness came over her. If she hadn’t known before how attracted he was to her—and he didn’t think she had—the woman had to know now. Or at least suspect it. Should he say something or just let it pass? Never having been good at the latter, he reached for an apology. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
    She briefly looked down at her hands, an embarrassed smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I don’t mind the attention . . . coming from you.”
    A bolt of lightning coursing through his rain-drenched body would have had less effect on him than her soft admission. Watching her, a steady warmth built inside him, and as the seconds lengthened, he knew he needed to steer the conversation, and his thoughts, toward safer waters. “So . . .” He breathed out, breaking hold of her gaze and hoping his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “What is this favor you’re wanting to ask me?”
    He would’ve sworn he glimpsed a flicker of daring in her expression. Maybe from something she thought of saying and then thought better of it.
    “What I was going to ask is . . . as soon as I’m well, and once Dr. Denard says it’s all right for me to ride again, I’m wondering if—”
    “I’d teach you to jump,” he guessed, reading the answer in her eyes and already looking forward to that first lesson. “I’d be honored. And by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be scaling every fence and creek east of the Mississippi.”
    Her smile was reward enough. “Thank you, Sutton. And now it’s your turn. You had something you wanted to say?”
    He tried to think of a way to tell her about Cara Netta. But no matter how he phrased—and rephrased—the words in his mind, he realized he couldn’t say what he’d planned on saying a moment ago. Because—after what had just happened—how could he explain to her that he had an understanding with another woman? Which he did.
    But how could he proceed in good faith into an engagement with Cara Netta, honestly pledging his affections and life to her, when Claire so obviously had a hold on his heart?
    He rose from the bed, glancing back at the clock on the mantel. “I just wanted to say that it’s almost nine thirty. And according to doctor’s orders, you can go to sleep now.” Unable to curb the desire, he leaned back down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

26

    D id you give Cordina the list of special requests for this evening’s dinner?”
    “Yes, ma’am, I did.” Claire smiled inwardly at the way her employer hovered near the front window