hisvoice. “You hate it.”
He glanced back, surprised and more than a little wary that she’d seen what he so carefully tried to hide. “It’s a waste of time to hate the necessary.” Alexander gestured her into the car, shut the door behind her and rounded the hood. He didn’t glance at or acknowledge the guards. “Your seat belt,” he murmured as he started the engine.
“What? Oh.” Eve stopped rehearsing her speech and pulled the harness into place. “I’ve always enjoyed driving around Cordina,” she began. Be friendly, she advised herself. Be casual, then zero in when he least expects it. “It’s such a lovely city. No skyscrapers, no steel-and-glass boxes.”
“We continue to fight certain kinds of progress.” He eased into the light traffic. “Several times hotel chains have lobbied to build resorts. The advantages are there, of course, an increase in employment, tourism.”
“No.” She shook her head as she studied the town. “It could never be worth it.”
“This from the daughter of a builder?”
“What Daddy’s built and where he’s built it has generally been a good thing. Houston’s … Houston’s different. A city like that needs to be developed.”
“There are some on the council who would argue that Cordina needs to be developed.”
“They’re wrong.” She turned to him. “Obviously your father feels the same way. What about you? When your turn comes, will you let them dig into the rock?”
“No.” He turned away from the city and toward the sea. “Some things are meant to grow naturally. The palace is the highest building in the country. As long as a Bisset lives there, it will remain so.”
“Is that ego?”
“That is heritage.”
And she could accept it. “We’re so different,” she said, half to herself. “You speak of heritage and you mean centuries of responsibility and tradition. When I think of it, I think of my father’s business and the headache someone’s going to be saddled with one day. Or I think of my mother’s Fabergé bowl. Heritage for me, and I suppose for most Americans, is tangible. You can hold it in your hand. For you it’s more nebulous, but ahundred times more binding.”
For several moments he said nothing. She couldn’t know how deeply her words, her empathy had affected him. “You understand better than I expected.”
She glanced at him quickly, then as quickly away. She couldn’t be moved. She didn’t dare allow it. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Driving me along the beach, coming to the theater? Why did you kiss me that way?”
“Which way?”
She might have laughed if she hadn’t felt so adrift. “Any way. Why did you kiss me at all?”
He considered as he looked for a private spot by the seawall. “The most obvious answer is that I wanted to.”
“That’s not obvious at all. You never wanted to before.”
“Women aren’t as perceptive as they would like the world to think.” He stopped the car, shut off the engine and slipped the keys into his pocket. “I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you. Would you like to walk?”
While she sat stunned, he got out and came around to her door.
“You have to unhook your seat belt.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’m afraid it’s difficult to walk on the beach if you’re strapped to a car seat.”
Eve fumbled with the lock, then sprang out of the car. “I meant what you just said wasn’t true. You hardly even looked at me, and when you did it was to scowl.”
“I looked at you a great deal.” He took her hand and began to walk toward the sand. Her fingers were stiff in his, resisting. He ignored the feeling. It was easier for him when she held herself back, challenged him to outmaneuver. Her one moment of absolute surrender had terrified him. “I prefer the beach in the evening, when the tourists have gone in to change for dinner.”
“That’s absurd.”
His smile was friendly, and sweeter than she could ever remember
He glanced back, surprised and more than a little wary that she’d seen what he so carefully tried to hide. “It’s a waste of time to hate the necessary.” Alexander gestured her into the car, shut the door behind her and rounded the hood. He didn’t glance at or acknowledge the guards. “Your seat belt,” he murmured as he started the engine.
“What? Oh.” Eve stopped rehearsing her speech and pulled the harness into place. “I’ve always enjoyed driving around Cordina,” she began. Be friendly, she advised herself. Be casual, then zero in when he least expects it. “It’s such a lovely city. No skyscrapers, no steel-and-glass boxes.”
“We continue to fight certain kinds of progress.” He eased into the light traffic. “Several times hotel chains have lobbied to build resorts. The advantages are there, of course, an increase in employment, tourism.”
“No.” She shook her head as she studied the town. “It could never be worth it.”
“This from the daughter of a builder?”
“What Daddy’s built and where he’s built it has generally been a good thing. Houston’s … Houston’s different. A city like that needs to be developed.”
“There are some on the council who would argue that Cordina needs to be developed.”
“They’re wrong.” She turned to him. “Obviously your father feels the same way. What about you? When your turn comes, will you let them dig into the rock?”
“No.” He turned away from the city and toward the sea. “Some things are meant to grow naturally. The palace is the highest building in the country. As long as a Bisset lives there, it will remain so.”
“Is that ego?”
“That is heritage.”
And she could accept it. “We’re so different,” she said, half to herself. “You speak of heritage and you mean centuries of responsibility and tradition. When I think of it, I think of my father’s business and the headache someone’s going to be saddled with one day. Or I think of my mother’s Fabergé bowl. Heritage for me, and I suppose for most Americans, is tangible. You can hold it in your hand. For you it’s more nebulous, but ahundred times more binding.”
For several moments he said nothing. She couldn’t know how deeply her words, her empathy had affected him. “You understand better than I expected.”
She glanced at him quickly, then as quickly away. She couldn’t be moved. She didn’t dare allow it. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Driving me along the beach, coming to the theater? Why did you kiss me that way?”
“Which way?”
She might have laughed if she hadn’t felt so adrift. “Any way. Why did you kiss me at all?”
He considered as he looked for a private spot by the seawall. “The most obvious answer is that I wanted to.”
“That’s not obvious at all. You never wanted to before.”
“Women aren’t as perceptive as they would like the world to think.” He stopped the car, shut off the engine and slipped the keys into his pocket. “I’ve wanted to since the first time I saw you. Would you like to walk?”
While she sat stunned, he got out and came around to her door.
“You have to unhook your seat belt.”
“That’s not true.”
“I’m afraid it’s difficult to walk on the beach if you’re strapped to a car seat.”
Eve fumbled with the lock, then sprang out of the car. “I meant what you just said wasn’t true. You hardly even looked at me, and when you did it was to scowl.”
“I looked at you a great deal.” He took her hand and began to walk toward the sand. Her fingers were stiff in his, resisting. He ignored the feeling. It was easier for him when she held herself back, challenged him to outmaneuver. Her one moment of absolute surrender had terrified him. “I prefer the beach in the evening, when the tourists have gone in to change for dinner.”
“That’s absurd.”
His smile was friendly, and sweeter than she could ever remember
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