Calder Promise (Calder Saga 8)

“A day or two, at least. We’ve been toying with the idea of going to Tuscany for a few days, or maybe to the coast. We have a very flexible schedule, totally subject to the whim of the moment. And you, will you be staying long in Rome?”

“Unfortunately no. Just two more days here, then it’s on to London.”

“What a shame. England’s on our list, but not until later.”

“There’s nothing to stop you from making more than one visit, is there?” Boone asked in light challenge. “You did say your schedule was subject to the whim of the moment.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” The teasing smile she gave him was playfully noncommittal. With a man like Boone Rutledge, Laura suspected it would never be wise to seem too eager for his company.

“Yes, you did.” He leaned fractionally closer, his voice lowering to a volume intended for her hearing alone. “I can promise you dinner, alone, at an intimate little restaurant I know with a great view of the Thames.”

As they reached the wide doorway into the hall, Laura threw him a laughing look. “Ahh, but can you promise me a misty London fog—” She suddenly collided hard with another guest, the sudden impact surprising a small outcry from her. A pair of hands gripped her upper arms, preventing Laura from being knocked completely off balance. She couldn’t say how, but she knew in that instant they didn’t belong to Boone.

“Hey, watch where you’re going.” Boone’s indignant voice came from very near.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

It was the second voice, male and distinctively British in its accent, that prompted Laura to lift her head. “No. I . . .” The words died in her throat when she found herself face to face with a fair-haired stranger with hazel eyes, flecked with beguiling glints of gold. The air between them seemed suddenly charged with a white hot current of electricity. Laura felt the tingle of it through her entire body, snatching at her breath and scrambling her pulse.

Something flickered across the stranger’s lean, angular features, erasing the look of concern and replacing it with a deep, heady warmth.

“Hel-lo,” he said, giving each syllable a dazed and dazzled emphasis.

“What happened, Laura? Did you forget to look where you were going?” The familiarity of Tara’s affectionately chiding voice provided the right touch of normalcy.

Laura seized on it while she struggled to collect her composure. “I’m afraid I did. I was talking to Boone and—” she paused a beat to glance again at the stranger, stunned to discover how rattled she felt. It was a totally alien sensation. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t felt in control of herself and a situation. “And I walked straight into you. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary,” the man assured her while his gaze made a curious and vaguely puzzled study of her face. “The fault was equally mine.” He cocked his head to one side, the puzzled look deepening in his expression. “I know this is awfully trite, but haven’t we met before?”

Laura shook her head. “No. I’m certain I would have remembered if we had.” She was positive of that.

“Obviously you remind me of someone else then,” he said, easily shrugging off the thought. “In any case, I hope you are none the worse for the collision, Ms.—” He paused expectantly, waiting for Laura to supply her name.

The old ploy was almost a relief. “Laura Calder. And this is my aunt, Tara Calder,” she said, rather than going into a lengthy explanation of their exact relationship.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he murmured to Tara, acknowledging her with the smallest of bows.

“And perhaps you already know Max Rutledge and his son, Boone.” Laura belatedly included the two men.

“I know of them.” He nodded to Max.

When he turned to the younger

man, Boone extended a hand, giving him a look of hard challenge. “And you are?”

“Sebastian Dunshill,” the man replied.

“Dunshill,” Tara repeated with sudden and heightened interest. “Are you any relation to the earl of Crawford, by chance?”

“I do have a nodding acquaintance with him.” His mouth curved in an easy smile as he switched his attention to Tara. “Do you know him?”

“Unfortunately no,” Tara admitted, then drew in a breath and sent a glittering look at Laura, barely able to contain her excitement. “Although a century ago the Calder family was well acquainted with a certain Lady Crawford.”

“Really. And how’s that?” With freshened curiosity, Sebastian Dunshill turned to Laura for an explanation.

An awareness of him continued to tingle through her. Only now Laura was beginning to enjoy it.

“It’s a long and rather involved story,” Laura warned. “After all this time, it’s difficult to know how much is fact, how much is myth, and how much is embellishment of either one.”