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She looked away again. This was why she could never be a politician. No matter how hard she tried to lie or equivocate, her face always told the truth.

“Hannah?”

She took a sip of wine, pretending to be composed, before slowly turning back to him.

“Yes, Tristan?”

“Do men and women make love in your United States?”

Had he seriously just said that?

Well, she would see his bold statement and raise it with one of her own.

“Sex,” she said, letting the word drip from her lips. “We call it ‘having sex,’ and yes, they do have sex. Though it’s not considered polite to discuss it so openly. For strangers, at least.”

“Hmm.”

What the hell kind of response was that?

They both returned to their meals, Hannah watching in fascination as servants moved efficiently through the tables. There must be nearly fifty people in the hall, maybe more. It was like a small restaurant.

“Sex.”

The word so startled her that it took her a moment to realize Tristan had spoken.

“I like that word,” he said.

And Hannah smiled, knowing she had him.

“I do too.”

* * *

He should have allowedsomeone else to escort her. Had he done so, he wouldn’t currently be struggling with two insistent thoughts as he led her to her chamber.

First, he wished he were bringing her to his chamber, but the rule he’d set for himself years ago precluded it. Having seen so many of The Swan’s women forced into uncomfortable situations, he’d vowed to never be the one to initiate ‘sex.’ It had rarely been a problem for him, but tonight . . . tonight he would have likely broken his own rule if given the chance.

Second, though he still did not believe Hannah was from the future, Tristan could tell she truly believed she hailed from this United States, and from another time, an impossibility for a woman who otherwise appeared quite healthy.

His beautiful visitor was quite a mystery.

He came to a stop outside her door, but neither of them moved. Damn, he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Your chamber awaits, my lady.”

“Thank you for allowing me to forget everything,” she said. “Even for a few moments.”

When she blinked up at him, Tristan’s cock demanded his attention. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to ignore his body’s response. Another reason the idea he was now contemplating would not do. No matter how much he longed to spend more time with Hannah, he could not be the one to take her to the falls.

And yet . . .

“It was my pleasure,” he said, surprising himself with the sincerity of his own words. Despite, or perhaps because of, her strange mannerisms and speech, he had enjoyed their conversation.

Still, he did not move. And when Hannah finally turned toward the door, he surprised himself again. “Nay . . .”

Her hand paused on the iron handle, and the urge to pull her away from the door, to draw out their evening together, almost made him break his own vow.

The smile she gave him would have tempted a priest.

“Your time,” she said, her voice like the thick velvet she wore. “Is very different than I imagined it would be.”