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“In that case I withdraw the offer—not that I ever made an offer.”
“You can’t do that,” Charles argued, looking surprised. “Your father thinks we should get married and, after giving it some thought, I agree with him.”
“That’s too bad, since I’m not interested.”
Charles laughed softly. “We both know that’s not true. You’ve been crazy about me for years.”
Steffie whirled around and crossed her arms, as though to fend off his words. “I can’t marry you, Charles.”
“Why not? I know you love me. You said so yourself before you left for Italy, and I know that hasn’t changed.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Ah, but I am. And recently you showed me again.”
“When?” she demanded, trying to recall the conversations they’d had since her return to Orchard Valley.
“The afternoon we met at Del’s.”
Steffie cast her mind back to that day. They’d met by accident as they’d gone in to pay for their gas. Steffie remembered how glad she’d been to see him, how eager to set things straight. But she couldn’t remember saying one thing that would lead Charles to believe she still loved him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Not in so many words, true, but with everything you did. The same holds true for the night I dropped off the azalea and you asked me to dinner. Remember?”
“Yes, but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“A whole lot, as a matter of fact. You were continually making excuses for us to be together.”
Steffie’s face flooded with color. “What’s that got to do with anything?” she asked again.
He ignored her question. “We had fun that night, touring Orchard Valley. Didn’t we?”
Steffie nodded. She wasn’t likely to forget that evening. For the first time in her relationship with Charles, she’d felt a stirring of real promise. Not the kind of hope she’d fabricated earlier, but one based on genuine companionship. Charles had enjoyed her company and they’d laughed and talked as though they’d been friends for years.
“You told me that when you lived in Italy you were too busy with your studies to date much,” Charles reminded her.
“So?”
“So that led me to conclude that you hadn’t fallen in love with anyone else while you were away.”
“I hadn’t.”
“Your father came right out and told me on several occasions that he was concerned about you because you didn’t seem to be dating anyone seriously.”
Steffie glared at him, feeling trapped. “I still don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”
“Plenty. You loved me then, and you love me now.”
“You’ve got some nerve, Charles Tomaselli.” She glowered fiercely, hoping he’d back off. “What makes you so sure I’m in love with you now?”
“I know you better than you realize.”
“What nonsense!” She managed a light laugh. “You don’t know me at all, otherwise you—” She stopped abruptly.
“Otherwise what?”
“Nothing.” Otherwise he wouldn’t have believed the things she’d told him.
