warmth. “Thank you.”
He slipped his hands into the pockets of his black leather pants and tipped his head toward the door. “You should go inside where it’s warm.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Then will you at least allow me to walk you home?”
Suddenly realizing she still had her mask on, she lifted her chin. “Do you know where I live?”
She was really asking if he knew her true identity. He seemed to understand that because he stepped even closer. He lifted her chin to survey her more closely. She watched his gaze trail from the tip of her nose over her cheeks. It rested upon her lips for an interminably long time before dropping to her chin and returning to her eyes. It only seemed fair that she take the same liberties. The dark shadow of a two-day-old beard covered his square jaw, stopping right below his perfectly sculpted nose and cheekbones. His eyebrows were two thick slashes over his dark lashes. As she watched, the color of his amber eyes deepened.
Encircling his strong wrist with her hand, she tugged lightly. He released his hold. She stepped back and struggled to gather her thoughts. What had they been talking about? Oh, yes.
“Well? Do you know where I live?”
* * *
Rhett could do nothing but stare into the face of Isabelle Bradley. Had she felt it, too? There had been some kind of tug between them. He’d felt in that moment as though he could have done something crazy—like kiss her.
He’d noticed little things like the myriad shades of green that made up her eyes and how they shifted like when the sun hit the waters of a slow-moving creek. Her lashes were so dark brown they almost would have looked black if not for the hint of gold that shone in the lantern light. Her lips were pink and bow-shaped. He couldn’t help wondering if they were as soft as they looked. Startled by that thought since he had no business thinking it, he gave his head a little shake.
This was Isabelle Bradley. The woman had made no secret of the fact that she found him exasperating. In truth, that was no surprise because he’d tried his hardest to be exasperating. Something about her had always gotten under his skin. She made him uneasy—not in a way most women did that so often resulted in his stuttering and stammering. It was more akin to when he was at the forge waiting for something to reach the right temperature. That anticipation, that sense of knowing was the same. He merely hadn’t realized it until now.
“Rhett?” The impatience in her tone made him realize she was still waiting for an answer.
Of course he knew where she lived. A person couldn’t be in town more than a few minutes before hearing about Bradley Boardinghouse. It was one of the best and most reputable places to stay in Peppin. The only reason he wasn’t living there was because the man who’d sold him the smithy had offered him a cabin as a package deal. However, that didn’t mean he was going to let Isabelle know that he was onto her. He figured if Isabelle had wanted him to know who she was beneath her mask, she would have already told him. He didn’t see any harm in playing along with her. “Sure, but Egypt is pretty far away. Don’t you think we’d better start walking?”
The triumph in her smile told him he’d made the right choice. “Actually, I have a better idea. I don’t want to go back to the party and neither do you. So let’s don’t. Let’s go on an adventure instead.”
If he’d had any doubts to her identity, they would have been put to rest then and there. He only knew two women who’d suggest something like that. One was inside dressed like Cupid and attacking people with arrows. The other was standing before him on the porch with pure mischief in her smile. He lifted a brow. “Is that right? And what makes you think I’d go anywhere with you? If I remember my history lessons correctly, men who hang around Cleopatra for too long end up dead.”
She gave a delightful little laugh. “Oh, and associating with a pirate isn’t dangerous?”
“I prefer buccaneer, but you make a valid point.” He took her hand and pushed back the sleeve of his coat to reveal the set of bracelets draped around her wrist. He trailed a finger across the most expensive-looking one. It was gold with a set of emeralds. Realizing the clasp was slightly open, he eased it closed. “Perhaps you should reconsider giving a command like that when you wear treasure such as this.”
“There’s nothing to reconsider.” She affected a haughty tone to fit her character. “I’m not a woman whose decisions or opinions can be easily swayed by danger...or men.”
“An admirable quality in a queen to be sure. However, there is one small problem.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to confide, “I’m not a man who’ll accept a command without question.”
“And what is your question?”
He broke from her gaze for only an instant before whispering, “Where are we going?”
That won him a smile. “If I told you that, it would take away part of the adventure. I can tell you a few things. It’s somewhere not far from here. Few people know about it. We will be able to view the fireworks undisturbed. How does that sound?”
Scandalous. Yet, it was hard to say no to that hopeful look in her eyes while she was all but swallowed in his coat. She was adorable and beautiful all at once. Furthermore, romance was in the air and he wasn’t panicking. He had no idea why that was the case, but he knew one thing. He wasn’t going to leave her side until he found out.
Sometimes... Well... Rarely, Isabelle had an idea so brilliant she surprised even herself. As she stepped from the fire escape to the roof of the hotel with Rhett right behind her, she knew this was one of those times. Rhett didn’t seem quite as convinced. He frowned at the flat expanse that slanted only slightly toward the back of the building. “Are you sure this roof is safe?”
“Certainly. It was inspected only a few weeks ago. It’s in tip-top shape.”
He glanced at her curiously. “You know that for a fact? How?”
“I just do.” Her father was a silent partner at the hotel in addition to being the owner of Peppin’s best boardinghouse, but there was no reason to mention that and give a hint to her identity yet. “It sure is dark up here. I guess we should have picked up a lantern or a candle when we stopped to get my coat.”
He shook his head. “We wouldn’t want to chance a fire.”
“True.” The soft glow from the gardens below drew her toward the back edge of the roof. Suddenly, the cold wind changed direction with a mighty swirl that made her stretch out her arms and close her eyes. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly? Imagine. The ground racing by beneath you. Nothing holding you up but air. It must be so freeing.”
“Yeah, we won’t be trying that tonight.” He caught her arm and guided her away from the edge.
“Am I worrying you, Rhett?”
“Not at all.” His nodding head belied his statement.
She laughed. “Well, if I can’t fly, how am I supposed to have my adventure?”
He thought for a moment then grinned. “I’ve never danced on a rooftop, have you?”
“Danced on a... No, I can’t say I have, but there’s no music.” Realizing she could still hear the faint strains of a reel from the ballroom, she amended, “Leastwise, none loud enough to be useful.”
He pulled his harmonica from his pocket, which she was pretty sure was its permanent residence. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I didn’t.”
He ignored her. “Stay on this side of the roof if you want to avoid breaking your neck. How about a waltz—Chopin, Number Seven?”
“Is