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His arm blocked her escape. “There’s no need to do that. I’ll drop you off at the house.”

“No, thanks,” she returned stiffly.

“I want to talk to you, anyway,” he said, none too gently guiding her into the elevator. “And as they say, there’s no time like the present.”

“This really isn’t necessary, Charles.”

“Oh, but it is.”

She noticed, when he led her out of the hospital to the parking lot, that he was driving the same red sports car she’d seen the day before. It eased her conscience a bit that it hadn’t been damaged during his race across the countryside.

He opened the door for her, and Steffie climbed inside. She was adjusting the seat belt when Charles joined her. The space seemed to shrink like silk pressed against a hot iron. Their shoulders touched, their thighs, their arms. For a moment, Steffie held her breath.

“You said you wanted to talk to me?” she said after he’d pulled out of the hospital parking lot. She was leaning as close to the passenger door as she could.

“I thought we’d discuss it over a glass of iced tea. You are inviting me inside, aren’t you?” He turned and grinned at her, that boyish, slightly skewed grin she’d always found so appealing.

She’d planned to tell him she had no intention of letting him in; instead she cleared her throat and said, “If you’d like.”

“I would.”

The ten-mile drive to the house generally took fifteen minutes. Steffie could have sworn Charles was purposely dragging out the time, driving well below the speed limit. They were so close in the small cramped car that she couldn’t avoid brushing against him, even though she tried not to. She was trying to forget that he’d kissed her the day before, and this didn’t make it any easier.

Steffie closed her eyes. It was all she could do not to shout at him to hurry. Why was he prolonging these moments alone? The least he could do was make polite conversation.

“My father seems cheerful, doesn’t he?” If Charles wasn’t going to say something, then she would. Anything to ease this terrible awareness.

“He certainly does.”

“He’s got a reason to live now, and that’s made all the difference in the world. I’m not sure what to think about his dream, but—”

“What dream?”

“Uh…nothing… It’s not important.” Steffie couldn’t believe what she’d done. In her nervousness, in her desperation to fill the silence, she’d blurted out what should never have been shared.

She relaxed when Charles finally turned off the road onto the mile-long family driveway. He parked in front of the house.

Steffie didn’t wait for him, but threw open her door and jumped out, her keys already in hand. She had the front door open by the time he caught up with her, and tossing her purse onto the hall table, led him briskly into the kitchen.

Norah had made some iced tea that morning. Steffie silently thanked her sister for her thoughtfulness as she took out the cold pitcher. A minute later, she’d found two tall glasses, added ice and sliced a fresh lemon. Another minute, and the drinks were ready.

“What was it you wanted to say?” Steffie reluctantly asked. She hadn’t realized how warm she was and held the glass between both hands, enjoying the coolness against her palms.

“It’s about what happened yesterday,” Charles said, walking away from her. He paused at the bay window that overlooked the backyard. Just beyond his view was the stable. “Or more appropriately, what shouldn’t have happened.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“I’d rather not discuss it,” Steffie said adamantly. She didn’t want to hear any more about her irresponsible accusations and rash actions. Nor did she wish to hear how much Charles regretted kissing her.

“If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me,” she said quickly. “Why don’t we just leave it at that? I was wrong.”

Charles’s back was to her as he stared outside toward the stables. “I don’t think anyone’s ever infuriated me this much,” he said quietly. He turned, set his glass of iced tea aside and thrust his hands into his pockets. “I’ve never met a woman who manages to irritate me the way you do.”

Steffie stiffened. “I’ve already apologized for leaping to conclusions. I admitted I was wrong.” She shrugged elaborately. “My only excuse is that I spent a hellish week trying to get home and I haven’t slept properly in days and I—”

“This isn’t necessary,” he said, interrupting her. “I’m not looking for an apology…. Actually I’m here to make my own. I want you to know I’m sorry about chasing after you. It was a dangerous thing to do. I might have spooked Fury into throwing you.”

“Not to mention damaging your car.”