Did I startle you?
Nathaniel stepped closer, the red tip of his cigar glowing.
Wordsworth usually has a different effect.
I didn't know you were there.
And wouldn't have come out had she known.
I
thought you'd gone home.
I was passing a little time with Dutch and a bottle of rum.
He stepped fully into the
moonlight.
He likes to complain about Coco, and prefers an audience.
He drew
slowly on his cigar. For a moment, his face was misted by smoke, making it mysterious and beautiful. An angel cast from grace.
Nice night.
Yes, it is. Well...
No need to run off. You wanted to walk in the garden.
He smiled, reaching down
to snap a pale pink peony from its bush.
Since it's nearly midnight, there's no better time for it.
She accepted the blossom, told herself she wouldn't be charmed.
I was admiring
the flowers. I've never had much luck growing them.
You have to put your heart in it along with the water and fertilizer.
Her hair was down, waving softly over her shoulders. She still wore the neatly tailored blue jacket and slacks she'd had on at dinner. A pity, he thought. It would have suited the night, and his mood, if she'd drifted outside in a flowing robe. But then, Megan O'Riley wasn't the type of woman to wander midnight gardens in swirling silks.
Wouldn't let herself be.
The only way to combat those intrusive gray eyes, other than to run like a fool, was conversation.
So, do you garden, as well as sail and quote the classics?
she asked
him.
I've an affection for flowers, among other things.
Nathaniel put a hand over the
peony she held, and lifted it toward him so that he could enjoy its fragrance, and hers. He smiled at her over the feathered petals.
She found herself caught, as if in some slow-motion dream, between the man and the moonlight. The perfume of the garden seemed to rise up and swirl like the breeze, gently invading her senses. Shadows shifted over his face, highlighting all those
fascinating clefts and ridges, luring her gaze to his mouth, curved now and inviting.
They seemed so completely alone, so totally cut off from the reality and responsibilities of day-to-day.
Just a man and a woman among star-dappled flowers and moonlit shadows, and the music of the distant sea.
Deliberately she lowered her lashes, as if to break the spell.
I'm surprised you'd have time for poetry and flowers, with all the traveling.
You can always make time for what counts.
The fact that the night held magic hadn't escaped him. But then, he was open to such things. There'd been times he'd seen water rise out of itself like a clenched fist, times he'd heard the siren song of mar-maids through shifting fog he believed in magic.
Why else had he waited in the garden, knowing, somehow knowing, she would come?
He released the flower, but took her free hand, linking their fingers before she could think of a reason he shouldn't.
Walk with me, Meg. A night like this shouldn't be wasted.
I'm going back in.
She looked back up just as a breeze stirred in the air. Wisteria petals rained down.
Soon.
So she was walking with him in the fairy-lit garden, with a flower in her hand and fragrant petals in her hair.
I... really should check on Kevin.
The boy have trouble sleeping?