The Gold Coin (Colby's Coin 1)

"Yes, he is." She kept her stare fixed on the path. "I don't often leave the manor—certainly not unchaperoned and escorted by a gentleman."

"I suppose not." A corner of his mouth lifted. "So, where is it George ordered us to go—to the stream?"

"Yes." She sighed. "It's on one of the more remote sections of the estate."

"Giving us the maximum amount of time alone." Damen thudded. "Why am I not surprised? And why don't I believe you had any plans of asking my advice about your inheritance?"

"Because I didn't." Anastasia peeked up at him through the fringe of her lashes. "Although perhaps I should. You know how little I understand about money or how to invest it."

"Would you like to learn?"

She pretended to consider the notion. "I don't think I'd enjoy it very much. Nor would my father approve. Business is a man's forte."

"Anastasia would disagree."

"You're right. Then again, Stacie's not a typical woman."

"I can't argue with you there." Damen fell silent, and Anastasia would have given anything to be able to read his thoughts.

They continued walking, and when Anastasia couldn't bear the silence for another instant, she blurted out, "Have I offended you?"

"No, of course not. Why would you think so?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I'm not enthused by business. Or maybe it's because I said what I did about Stacie," she added, unable to resist the urge to probe.

"Ah. That." He gave an offhanded shrug. "Well, neither comment offended me. I don't expect everyone to share my fascination for investments. As for Anastasia, she is different. Very different."

"Is that approval or disapproval I hear?"

"Neither. It's captivation. Anastasia intrigues me in a way no other woman ever h

as." He shot her a questioning look. "Now I hope I haven't offended you."

"H-m-m? No, not at all." Anastasia had to firmly remind herself that it was Breanna he was addressing, not she. Therefore, emitting a gleeful shout would be totally out of place.

"Are we headed in the right direction?" Damen asked, slowing his steps as their path wound its way into a thick grove of trees.

"Yes."

"Good." He guided her through the profusion of oaks, walking steadily until the sun and the grounds were eclipsed by greenery.

Abruptly, he stopped, lush branches enveloping them as he tugged her around to face him.

Anastasia blinked in the filtered daylight. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? No."

She looked puzzled, studying his nondescript expression, cast in the shadows of the encompassing trees. "Then why are we stopping?"

"To talk." He brushed a leaf off the top of her smoothly coiffed hair. "You did say you were lonely, didn't you?"

Anastasia didn't have to feign the astonishment that flashed across her face. "Well, yes. But…"

"I'd like to eliminate that loneliness."

"By talking?" she asked cautiously.

"Among other things." He traced the delicate curve of her jaw with his fingertips. "You're incredibly beautiful."