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He was still, stiff, then his muscles shifted and moved slowly into relaxation. “I was thinking of a walk myself. Would you like company?”
Sniffing self-consciously, Kate nodded into his shirt, unable to speak past the emotion that pressed against her throat. Friendship, she told herself as her heart danced in her chest. And nothing more.
Chapter 11
It was as dreary a day as he’d ever seen. Gray light, gray sand, gray rocks, gray water. And Aidan was sure his frozen toes were an alarming shade of that same color. Watching Kate as she stepped lightly beside him, he wondered if she were walking on the same icy beach as he. A happy pink glow suffused her cheeks, and her eyes seemed to throw off gold sparks.
“It’s cold,” he groaned.
“So you’ve said.” She gazed serenely out over the rippling water, a small smile playing about her mouth.
“You seemed
to need reminding.”
Her smile widened when she turned toward him. “You should go home and warm up. We can walk together another time . . . when it’s not too cold for you.”
“It’s not too cold for me,” he protested in as reasonable a tone as he could muster. “I’m only concerned about you.”
“I’m perfectly well. You, on the other hand, look positively frozen.”
She seemed so cheerful about it he couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you enjoying this so much?”
“You’d enjoy it too if you’d baked in the tropical sun for years!”
“I suppose I would,” Aidan conceded, happy with her enthusiasm, if not the weather. “And if you can bear the cold, I’m afraid my pride wouldn’t survive the embarrassment of retreat.”
“Such a gracious escort.” Her grin was saucy, relaxed.
Aidan grunted obligingly, but he was secretly thrilled. She was a different woman today. Her smile came easily and she took his arm with a natural grace instead of wariness.
His offer of a platonic friendship had relieved her, it seemed, removing the tension that hovered about her like a storm. It was no idle offer on his part. She had been his last true friend, and he’d missed the ease and comfort of being near her.
“How long will you be staying this time?” Her voice broke through his thoughts.
“Well, I’d only thought to check on the progress of repairs on the ship, but the workmanship is impressive. I’m considering leaving her here for the complete overhaul. It’d be to my advantage to have a good shipyard outside the confines of London.” The advantages began to form and clarify in his mind even as he spoke. Cheaper port fees, a faster turnaround. The work itself definitely came cheaper, and the craftsmen seemed reliable.
And Kate was here.
“It’s colder here, though,” he added with a sidelong look at her. “The river tends to ice.”
“Oh, so subtle! Fine. I give in. Let’s get you back inside to warm your delicate toes.”
Aidan smiled at her with unabashed pleasure, whirling her around to walk back toward town. “My delicate fingers are quite frozen too.”
Kate surprised him by giggling. She really was so different. Perhaps he was too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked for the simple enjoyment of it. Actually, he could. Of course he could. It had been with Kate, along a rocky river shore quite like this one, her hand held tightly in his. And then they’d spied that old boathouse. . . .
A strange shimmer of warmth swept from his chest down to his fingers at the memory. It was a feeling much like the wonderful, painful anticipation she’d inspired in him years ago. A need to touch her, sweetened by the knowledge that she’d welcome his touch. The sensation rocked him. This was what he’d never felt with other women. Only Kate had ever made his fingertips tingle, made his breath catch in his lungs with anxious want.
And she still did, apparently, though he tried to rein in the feeling. It could be only nostalgia or some desire to recapture what they’d lost. But there was no recapturing that.
Still, it was hard not to give in. Hard to stop himself from touching her face when she turned to smile at him, hard to keep from sliding an arm around her waist as they walked. It was even harder to think that in a few minutes or an hour or two hours, he would have to say a casual good-bye and retreat to the inn until the next day. A need to be near her pulsed in him, and he wanted to indulge it, to quench it.
“Have you tired of my company or may I impose on you for dinner this evening?”
“Oh, certainly,” she answered quickly, her smile turning to a frown. “Although . . . dinner . . .”
“Never fear.” Aidan tipped his head toward town. “I already asked the innkeeper to prepare a basket. I did not wish to strain your hospitality.”
