Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

“I think that I can easily make up some fanciful excuse for why I fell into the fountain, while you…” Caro’s voice faltered as she watched him peel off his coat and cravat. The light shone through the light linen of his shirt, silhouetting the slabbed contours of his shoulders.

“While I have no sense of whimsy?”

Don’t stare at his muscles. Don’t stare at the intriguing glint of golden curls peeking out from his open collar.

“Th-that’s not exactly what I meant.” She made herself look away, knowing it was foolish beyond words to still harbor a tendre for him. “I know you have an impish side, sir, but you seem so very loath to show it.”

“I do?” He arched a brow. “Perhaps you are only imagining it.”

Was he teasing her? A small smile seemed to be playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Me?” she muttered, trying not to think of how much she would miss their verbal sparring. “Surely not. You know very well that a young lady is not supposed to have any imagination.”

The smile gave way to a chuckle as Alec stepped up onto the bench. “Well then, we had better keep this little interlude a secret.” He glanced upward. “To ensure that all three of our reputations don’t suffer irreparable damage.”

A silvery spray misted his red-gold hair, and with the late afternoon sun setting behind his head, he looked like some glorious ancient sea god rising to life out of the polished stone.

“Hold this,” he said, breaking the spell by thrusting his coat into her hands. “I’ll just be a moment.”

With that, he grabbed hold of a mermaid’s curled fin and started to climb. The cascading water quickly soaked his shirt and trousers, causing the fabric to cling to his body.

A proper lady ought to look away, thought Caro.

Thank God I have no pretensions to being a proper lady. The view was really too delicious to miss.

Alec hauled himself up to the crowning clamshell and peered inside. “Halloo, what have we here?”

Caro heard a burble of laughter echo within the carved marble.

“Hmmm. Let us see how we are going to extract you from your shell.” Alec’s head and shoulders ducked through the opening.

He reappeared a moment later with the very wet and very beaming little girl in his arms. “Look what a lovely little pearl I found inside the oyster,” he called down to Caro.

“It’s not an oyster, silly—it’s a clam!” trilled the child.

Alec gave a look of mock surprise. “By Jove, you’re right. But if you’re not a pearl, shall I put you back?”

She shook her head, spraying his face with a fresh shower of drops. “No, I wish to go down.” Her arms wound tighter around his neck, “Now, if you please, sir.”

“Very well.” He picked his way carefully down through the frolicking sea creatures and dropped lightly onto the bench, his bare feet making a watery slap on the stone.

“Thank you,” said the little girl.

“You are most welcome, Pearl.”

She giggled. “My name is Catherine.”

“Which is a very pretty name.” He bowed. “Mine is Alec.”

Watching Alec’s unguarded expression as he bantered with the little girl, Caro knew her intuition was correct—beneath the shell of steely reserve, he was a very different man. Hard, yet soft. Strong, yet sensitive.

Her heart gave a little lurch as he curled a smile and winked at the little girl.

Catherine responded with a ladylike curtsey.

“Now, where does the Pearl live, if not in the clamshell?” he asked.

The little girl pointed to the manor house.