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‘But they are. They’re—’
‘They’re beautiful.’ Her eyes flashed to his. He was frowning, as if he’d just seen something he’d never seen before. ‘I just-I just can’t decide if they’re hazel or...’ Their eyes met and a dark flush rose along Conor’s high cheekbones. He cleared his throat and got to his feet. ‘Well,’ he said briskly, ‘why don’t I open these blinds a little?’
Arden swallowed. ‘Fine,’ she said shakily. She shut her eyes. “That‘s—that’s a good—’
‘Don’t close your eyes!’ Her lashes flew up from her cheeks and she stared at him. ‘Remember what I said? I don’t want you to doze off until the doctor’s seen you.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Are you sleepy?’
She wasn’t. She just didn’t want him to look into her eyes again, for if he did—if he did, who knew what he might see?
Conor sat down on the bed beside her. ‘Talk to me, Arden, and keep yourself awake.’
She gave a helpless laugh. ‘Talk to you? About what?’
‘I don’t know. Anything.’ He grinned. ‘Tell me about the little girl who mucked stables in her spare time. What did she like, besides horses?’
‘This is silly. I’m—’
‘Did she play with dolls and colouring books? Or was she a tomboy who was always coming home with dirty knees and bruises on her shins?’
Arden smiled a little. ‘A tomboy. My mother bought me a doll each Christmas, in hopes I’d turn into the demure child she wanted.’
His grin widened. ‘But it didn’t work.’
‘Uh-uh. I never understood why any girl in her right mind would want to pour tea for her dolls when she could be out tramping through the woods or—’
‘Or riding a horse,’ he said, taking her hand in his, ‘so she could get away from all those insensitive bastards who never let her forget she was the daughter of a servant.’
Arden’s smile vanished. She tried to tug her hand free of his, but he wouldn’t let her do it.
‘I don’t know why I told you that,’ she said.
‘Perhaps because you wanted me to understand you better.’
Colour stained her cheeks. ‘If you think I was asking you for your pity—’
‘Did I say that, querida?’
‘No,’ she said, after a second, ‘you didn’t. But—’
‘And I do understand you better now. You see, I grew up much the same way.’
Arden smiled cynically. ‘Who are you trying to kid, Conor? You grew up in this big house—’
‘—in this big house, with an uncle who rarely let a day pass without somehow reminding me that he’d taken me in, and I was obliged to him.’
Her smile faded. ‘Felix?’
Conor looked down at where her hand lay in his. ‘I don’t really blame him now,’ he said slowly. ‘He didn’t know the first thing about children and all of a sudden, there he was, a man in his seventies, with a boy to raise.’
Arden looked at him. ‘And so you rebelled,’ she said softly. ‘Is that why you worked on that banana boat?’
He smiled as he rubbed his fingers lightly over the back of her hand. ‘Sort of. When I turned eighteen, he told me I could finally begin earning my keep. He put me to work here, at El Corazon. But having him bark orders at me twenty-four hours a day was even worse than having him constantly reminding me that I owed him everything. One day, I decided it was impossible for me to live my life so he could be happy. I packed a change of clothing and left.’
‘But you came back,’ he said quietly.
