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“Then I suppose I’m your first.” There was more drawing him than just her beauty. He found the brief flashes he’d seen of her determination so intriguing, he wondered what it might be like to know her better, learn her hopes, dreams, likes, dislikes, and where she’d gotten the courage to set off for California alone. He shook himself free and found her staring up curiously.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

Eddy had no experience with men, but there was something in his gaze that gave her pause. He was without a doubt the handsomest man she’d ever met, but she knew a man of his race and wealth wouldn’t be interested in a near destitute Colored woman, at least not legitimately, and yet ... “I—­should probably eat this before it goes cold.”

In a voice as quiet as the room, he replied, “Yes, you probably should.”

For a moment she was unable to look away, and he seemed equally held. Whatever was happening lengthened until she finally forced herself to break the contact. “Tell Jim thank you,” Eddy said, needing to say something. Focusing her attention on her plate, she fought to concentrate on picking up her silverware and not on the rising draw of Fontaine’s nearness beside the bed. She dipped the tines of her fork into the steaming scrambled eggs.

“I’ll look in on you later.”

“Thank you.” Eddy watched him leave. Only after he exited and the door closed behind him did she realize she’d been holding her breath.

Outside in the hallway, Rhine exhaled, too, and told himself that the best way to handle whatever this was would be to ignore it.

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