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“Really,” Sebastian murmured, eyes dancing. “I never would have guessed that about you.”

“The truth is out, then.” A knowing smile curved her mouth as she brimmed with the certainty that he was remembering when she had ventured nude into the Trevi Fountain.

With all her attention wrapped up in Sebastian, Laura never noticed the tall dark-haired man approaching their table until he stopped by her chair. “I was told at the desk I could find you in here.”

She looked up with a start, her glance quickly taking in the man’s familiar features, full of rough and raw masculinity. “Boone,” she said in surprise that quickly gave way to pleasure. “Your father must have given you my message.”

“He did.” He flashed her a broad smile. “Rather than call you back, I decided to come over myself and find out if you can be ready about eight for our big night on the town.” Without waiting to be asked, he pulled up a vacant chair and sat down at the table.

“Eight o’clock will be perfect,” Laura replied.

As the tardy waiter hurried over to their table, Tara inquired, “Would you like some tea, Boone?”

“No, thanks.” He dismissed the waiter with a curt shake of his head. “The only tea I drink is the kind we serve in Texas—sweet and on ice.” His glance drifted to Sebastian, as if only then taking notice of his presence.

“You remember Sebastian Dunshill, don’t you, Boone?” Tara said, supplying the name on the off chance he had forgotten it. “We met at the contessa’s party in Rome.”

“I remember,” he said and acknowledged him with a brief nod that was neither friendly nor unfriendly.

“Sebastian just brought us an invitation to spend the weekend at Crawford Hall,” Laura explained.

“Are you going?” Boone asked and continued without waiting for her answer. “I was going to suggest we fly up to Newmarket and take in a horse race.”

“I wish I’d known.” Laura gave him a look of regret, tempered with a smile. “But Tara and I can hardly pass up the chance to have a firsthand look at the portrait of Lady Crawford that hangs in the hall. She has been the subject of much speculation in our family for too many years.”

Boone lounged back in the chair, hooking an arm over the corner of its backrest. “This is the first time I’ve ever been turned down in favor of a painting.” But his broad Texas smile didn’t reveal any signs of rejection. “Now you’ve got me curious about it. It must be something special.”

“We think it will be,” Tara replied. “Which is why we are so anxious to see it.”

“When are you leaving?” Boone divided his glance between Laura and Tara. On the surface, the tone of his question seemed to be one of idle curiosity, but his attention to their answer was a bit too sharp.

“Actually”—it was Sebastian who spoke up first—“they are expected for dinner tomorrow evening. I was about to suggest making a leisurely afternoon drive of it. I thought I could pick you up around two,” he said to Laura, “stop for tea along the way, and still arrive in ample time for dinner.”

“I have a better idea.” Boone’s broad smile never wavered as he pinned his gaze on Sebastian, the subtle challenge in it obvious to everyone. “I’ll take them instead. It’ll give me a chance to get a peek at this painting myself.”

Laura watched Sebastian, intensely curious to see how he would handle this gauntlet Boone had thrown down.

“There’s no need for that,” Sebastian began in smooth dismissal, “as I’ll be making the drive myself tomorrow—”

“But I have a Daimler limousine at my disposal,” Boone interrupted. “I think you’ll agree it would be much more comfortable for the ladies to ride in it than in an ordinary car.”

During the briefest of pauses, Sebastian studied his adversary with a sizing glance, then smiled lazily. “Since you seem so determined to make the drive, why don’t I arrange for you to spend the weekend at Crawford Hall as well.”

The invitation was the last thing Laura had expected from Sebastian. Most women in her shoes would have found the prospect of having both men under the same roof to be an awkward situation. Laura regarded it as a challenge. And she thrived on challenges.

“I’d love to spend the weekend in the country with Laura if you’re sure our host wouldn’t object,” Boone replied.

“His philosophy tends to be ‘the more, the merrier’ or something like that,” Sebastian stated with a droll smile.

“Will Max be joining us as well?” Tara asked with sudden curiosity, then glanced at Sebastian in quick apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed to include him. Besides, if Crawford Hall is typical of most old homes, it isn’t exactly wheelchair-friendly.”

“Crawford Hall happens to be an exception, then, thanks to an ancestor who was similarly handicapped in his later years,” Sebastian explained. “So there are suitable accommodations for your father if he should wish to come.”

“I believe he’s already made other plans, but I’ll ask him,” Boone replied.

“Do that,” Sebastian said with an aristocratic nod.

“I will.” Boone gripped the arms of his chair and pushed out of the seat, rising to his feet. “I’ll let you all get back to your tea. Pick you up at eight,” he said to Laura, then winked. “And bring your appetite. Don’t waste it all on those sweets.” He gestured to the petit four on her plate and left the table.

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