Why, then, did she feel so miserable?

“Why are you frowning?”

Hannah started in surprise as she heard a voice from the library threshold. Her eyes widened as she beheld Rafe Bowman standing there with his habitually negligent posture, one leg slightly bent as he leaned against the doorframe. He was in a perturbing state of undress, his vest unbuttoned, his collarless shirt open at the throat, no cravat anywhere in sight. Somehow the disarray only made him more handsome, emphasizing the relaxed masculine vitality that she found so disturbing.

“I…I…Why are you walking around half dressed?” Hannah managed to ask.

One of his shoulders lifted in a lazy shrug. “No one here.”

“I’m here.”

“Why aren’t you at the sleighing party?”

“I wanted a bit of peace and privacy. Why aren’t you at the sleighing party? Natalie will be disappointedshe was expecting”

“Yes, I know,” Bowman said without a trace of remorse. “But I’m tired of being watched like a bug under a magnifying glass. And more importantly, I had some business matters to discuss with my brother-in-law, who also stayed behind.”

“Mr. Swift?”

“Yes. We went over contracts with a British heavy chemical company for sulphuric acid and soda supplies. Then we moved on to the fascinating topic of palm oil production.” He came into the room, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. “We agreed that we’ll eventually need to cultivate our own source by establishing a coco palm plantation.” His brows lifted. “Care to go to the Congo with me?”

She stared directly into his sparkling eyes. “I wouldn’t go with you to the end of the carriage lane, Mr. Bowman.”

He laughed softly, his gaze sweeping over her as she stood to face him. “You didn’t answer my earlier question. Why were you frowning?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Hannah fumbled nervously in the pocket of her skirts. “Mr. Bowman, I’ve been meaning to return this to you.” Pulling out the little toy soldier, she extended her hand. “You must take him back. I think”she hesitated”you’ve been through many a battle together, you and he.” She couldn’t help glancing at his throat, where the skin looked smooth and golden. A bit lower, there was a shadow of hair where the open neck of his shirt parted. An unfamiliar, hot flourish of sensation went through her stomach. Dragging her gaze upward, she looked into eyes as rich and dark as exotic spices.

“If I take it back,” he asked, “do I still owe you a forfeit?”

A smile struggled upward but didn’t quite surface. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to consider that.”

Bowman reached out, but instead of taking the soldier from her, he closed his hand over hers, trapping the cool metal between their palms. His thumb moved in a gentle sweep over the back of her hand. The touch caused her to draw in a quick, severed breath. His fingers moved upward to close around her wrist, drawing her toward him. His head bent as he looked down at the letter still clasped in her fingers. “What is it?” he asked quietly. “What’s worrying you? Trouble at home?”

Hannah gave a wild little shake of her head and forced a smile. “Oh, nothing’s worrying me. I’ve received very good news. I’mI’m happy!”

A sardonic, slanting glance. “So I see.”

“Mr. Clark wants to marry me,” she blurted out. For some reason, saying the words aloud sent a chill of panic through her.

His eyes narrowed. “Clark proposed by letter? He couldn’t have troubled himself to come here and ask you in person?”

Although it was a perfectly reasonable question, Hannah felt defensive. “I find it very romantic. It’s a love letter.”

“May I see it?”

Her eyes turned round. “What makes you think I would show you something so personal, and” She made a little sound of distress as he took the letter from her nerveless fingers. But she didn’t try to take it back.

Bowman’s face was expressionless as he glanced over the neatly written lines. “This isn’t a love letter,” he muttered, tossing it contemptuously to the floor. “It’s a damned science report.”

“How dare you!” Hannah bent to scoop the letter up, but he wouldn’t let her. The toy soldier dropped as well, bouncing on the soft carpet as Bowman gripped her by the elbows.

“You’re not actually considering it, are you? That cold-blooded, pathetic excuse for a marriage proposal?”

“Of course I am.” Her anger exploded without warning, fueled by some deep and treacherous longing. “He’s everything you’re not, he’s honorable and kind and gentlemanly”

“He doesn’t love you. He never will.”

That hurt. In fact, the pain doubled and redoubled until Hannah could hardly breathe. She twisted angrily in his hold. “You think that because I’m poor and ordinary, someone like Mr. Clark couldn’t love me. But you’re wrong. He sees past”

“Ordinary? Are you mad? You’re the most insanely delicious girl I’ve ever met, and if I were Clark, I’d have done a hell of a lot more than fondle your cranium by now”

“Don’t mock me!”

“I’d have seduced you ten times over.” He deliberately stepped on the letter. “Don’t lie to me, or yourself. You’re not happy. You don’t want him. You’re settling for this because you don’t want to risk being an old maid.”