“Interesting she called him. She saw him as interesting-artistically. Under the circumstances, that was about as unflattering as she could get.”

“What is Chad short for?" she found herself asking out of pure nervousness."Short for?""It's a nickname,isn't it?""No,darlin',it doesn't get any longer."She heard the humor in his tone,which annoyed her.It had been a natural mistake. The name didn't usually stand on its own.And she should take him to task over that "darlin'," except she'd heard for herself how common the use of that word was out here,no different than the old-timers calling her "missy," or the train attendant calling her "ma'am." It meant nothing. There wasn't a speck of endearment in it."Thank you for clearing that up for me," she said a bit stiffly."My pleasure."She had a feeling he would have tipped his hat if he'd been wearing it just then rather than holding it in his hand. She'd like to tip his rocker over. He could be so damn irritating-no,it probably wasn't even him, it was her reaction to him,her nervousness, her-wanting him when she knew she couldn't have him.”

“I suppose I could walk back.The house isn't that far away."He lifted a black brow at her. "You'd rather walk a mile than ask me to take you back?"The answer was absolutely yes, but she wasn't going to embarrass them both by saying it. At least she had an excuse to avoid such close contact with him, which she really didn't think she could handle. Being this close to him was bad enough because it was reminding her about that kiss the other night...”

“She'd barely sat down when he reminded her of that kiss: "Couldn't find any mud?" He said it so casually, she couldn't tell if he was teasing."Behave," she hissed at him."Never." He grinned at her.That brought on a slight blush, which in turn brought back her earlier frustration. "If trying to punish me by making me want you,I won't fall for that again," she warned him."Do you want me?"What a ridiculous question. How could she not want him? But she wasn't telling him that. For him to even ask proved his intent was wicked in some form. "Be at ease,Becca." Then he completely ruined that by adding, "I'm not going to ravish you here at the table, though I confess,I'll probably be thinking about nothing else."She could have melted off the chair right to the floor, and not just from the scalding blush that flew up her cheeks. She was seeing him in her mind making love to her on the table! She couldn't look down at the table without seeing it now! Oh,God...She had no iea how she got through that meal. She barely heard a word around her.”

“What do you do for Nigel Jennings?"There was no pause at all. "I'm his tailer," he answered immediately."You're nothing of the sort."Rupert gave her a cheeky grin. "Meant to say, he's my tailor."She cast him a thoughtful look. "Interesting that you would lie about it.""You call joking lying?""Evasion is a form of deceit.""Interesting that you would see it that way." He gave her back her own words. She almost laughed.While he hadn't answered her question any more truthfully than she had answered his, he surprised her by not pursuing his inquiry about why she had been on Wigmore Street. Fingering a white silk yarn within his reach, he said, "I'll take a vest in this if you run out of ideas to ply your needle toward."She couldn't help but grin. "Will you indeed? But that implies a gift-"He cut in, "Consider it an early Christmas present," and actually sounded serious."I don't make presents for mere aquaintances.""We're more'n that.""We aren't.""Of course we are,or do you make a habit of kissing mere aquaintances?"She huffed. "You did the kissing, not I."He was grinning again. "You fully participated,Becca. Don't even try to deny it.”

“Fancy finding you here," he said jauntily.Nothing about it was fanciful, and she suspected he might have followed her. Why else would he be there?"You've taken up knitting, have you?" she countered as she walked to the yarn section of the shop."No,I've taken up finding you alone. Nice of you to accommodate me."His answer pleased her more than she could say, but she warned him, "I'm not alone.""For the moment you are.”

“My mother helped me to get past that. She was always there for me, until she dies. I remember she told me once, about big hearts and small hearts, and that not everyone could be blessed with a big one that had room to care for a lot of people. She promised me that mine was big, and that I was the lucky one for it.”