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“This,” I said, running my finger around the drawing.
“Oh. Right. Sculpture.”
I raised a brow. “I would love to see it.”
Her cheeks flushed like they had so many times already.
“It will be some time before I complete it. Months, in fact.”
I tapped the paper. “This, I will wait for. You, I cannot. In fact, I want you to marry me so I know I’ll never have to wait again.”
She laughed as if I was joking. I wasn’t.
“Here he is now,” she said, pulling her hand from mine.
I stood and straightened my trousers. When I looked up, my eyes met those of a man I hated. This could not be her cousin. God could not be so cruel.
His forehead furrowed as he studied me.
“Hello, luv. Forgive me for being tardy.” He looked from her to me. “Who is this?” he asked, even though he knew damned well who I was.
“This is Leviticus. Um, sorry, I don’t know your last name.”
“Marras.” I reached across the table to see if he’d shake my hand.
He looked at it as if it were a snake, then down at the drawing and up at me again. “Niven St. Thomas.”
We shook, then both turned toward Eliza.
“Shall we?” the man I knew as Saint asked her.
“Um, do you want a drink first?”
He shook his head. “No. Famished. I asked for a table in the dining room on my way in.”
She turned to me. “Would you like to join us?”
If I wasn’t so mesmerized by her beauty, I might have laughed at the horrified expression on Saint’s face. “Perhaps another time.”
“I’d like that,” she said barely above a whisper.
“Eliza, they’re signaling to seat us.”
She looked from me to her cousin. “Go ahead, Niv. I’ll just be a moment.”
He hesitated, but what could he say now? He’d already gone along with me acting as though we were strangers. Could he admit we weren’t?
“Very well. Don’t be long.”
“I won’t.” She smiled like one would at a child.
“When can I see you again?” I blurted as soon as he was a few paces away.
“Um, I don’t know. I’m…”
“Please don’t say busy.”
She laughed. “Actually, it’s the opposite. My schedule is quite…empty.”