“Derek.” She glanced at him beside her. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh good, I was afraid you hadn’t,” he said in a resigned manner.

She frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“In the two days since I agreed to let you try to convince me to reform, for lack of a better word, you have begun every conversation on the subject with ‘I’ve been thinking.’”

“And you have cut off every conversation.”

“Because I had no intention of listening to you until you began fulfilling your end of the bargain.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” She waved at the panorama around them. “On top of the highest structure man has ever built.”

“But you’re not very gracious about it.”

“I am bloody delighted!”

He lowered his voice. “We are beginning to attract attention. It scarcely matters to me but—”

“Once more you’re right.” She forced a smile. “Is that better?”

“If you mean the alleged smile—it’s somewhat frightening.” He returned his gaze to the panoramic view. “However, I am made of sterner stuff than to let an insincere smile dissuade me.”

“That is good to know.” She widened her smile although she suspected it did look more like her stomach hurt than anything remotely pleasant. Regardless, it was the best she could manage at the moment. “I was only going to say that I was wondering if my cousin had made it up here. Going to the top of the Eiffel Tower was one of the things she hoped to do in Paris.”

“Then I can’t imagine she would have missed it.” He paused. “Which could indicate we might be close to finding her.”

“Are we?”

“The elevators only began operating last week. I can’t imagine even the intrepid Lady Heloise would wish to climb the steps.”

“No, she’s not overly fond of steps.”

“If she was here as recently as last week, she might still be here.”

India nodded. “The exposition and the tower were two of the reasons she intended to linger for a while in Paris. That and the art.”

“I think you mentioned her interest in art before.”

“Heloise adores art and has studied it for most of her life. She also fancies herself an artist. She has a studio of sorts on the top floor of the house and spends a great deal of time with her paints and brushes and canvases.”

“Rather frivolous, don’t you think?” he teased.

“Not at all,” she said staunchly, then sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid I do. Especially as, well, she’s not very good at it. The walls of the house are covered with her efforts. She’s quite proud of them.”

“And you have never told her the truth?”

“Goodness, Derek, I would never tell her that.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

She glanced at him but his attention was still on the scenic view. “You’re surprised.”

He chuckled.

“I deserve that I suppose. But Heloise has been very kind to me. She is my family.” She hesitated then plunged ahead. “Heloise was my mother’s cousin. My parents were engaged in missionary work when they died. I had just started at Miss Bicklesham’s—I was always boarding at some school or another as my parents were rarely in England. Heloise was named my guardian and my home has been with her ever since. She managed to continue to fund my education even though her income is limited.”

“Is it?”

She nodded. “I owe her a great deal. She’s been both mother and dearest friend to me.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Or what she would do without you?”

“Perhaps.” She pushed aside the disconcerting thought of never seeing Heloise again. “I took over management of her household and very nearly everything else when I finished school. She has only the vaguest idea how to run a house. She never concerns herself with what she deems unimportant details. She does see to the household accounts but only because I stand over her and force her to do so although she has always been concerned about money.” She smiled. “But Heloise is not what one would call organized.”

“Imagine my surprise.”

“This excursion of hers is a perfect example. Right from the beginning, she was not definitive in her travel plans. She said she might be gone anywhere from six months to a year and fully intended to stay as long as she wished anywhere that caught her fancy.” She thought for a moment. “I did not pay as much attention to the details as I should have. I’m not sure I thought she would really leave.”

He nodded.

“You’ve mentioned the lax nature of her itinerary—” she glanced at him “—for which I blame the Lady Travelers Society as much as I blame Heloise.”

“As well you should.”

She turned toward him. “The other day you derided me because I have no desires, nothing I particularly want. I admit I don’t understand it, but Heloise wanted to see for herself things she had only seen in paintings or photographs. It was her dream. I had no idea she was doing it, but it seems she set aside money for years—small bits and pieces she could ill afford really, so that she might one day see the world beyond England’s shores. I suspect she gave up a fresh canvas here or a new tube of paint there to save funds for this trip of hers. I imagine in that respect, she was not unlike most of the members of the Lady Travelers Society.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “In that they wish to see the world?”

“And they are willing to sacrifice to do so.” Determination strengthened her voice. “I saw the ladies at the meeting, Derek. They were not wealthy. Women with money do not attend lectures and meetings about travel. They travel. They do not have to save their pennies to finance their dreams. The women you are taking money from do.”

An undefined emotion washed across his face. Guilt perhaps? Or regret?

“One could say you are stealing their dreams.”

He winced. “It sounds awful when you put it like that.”

“It is awful.”

“I had not looked at it in quite that way.” He shook his head. “It certainly deserves further consideration.”

“Good.” At the moment, that was all she could ask for. But the very fact that he would consider what she had said was gratifying. As was the expression on his face. She was right—underneath it all, Derek was a good man.

“For someone who admits she has no dreams...” He studied her closely. “You seem to understand quite a lot about them.”

“Do I?” She smiled. “I assure you no one is more surprised at that than I.”

His gaze searched hers. “There is so much more to you than you would have people see.”

“I imagine that could be said about any of us.”

“I very much want to kiss you, India Prendergast.”

“Still?” She stared up at him.

He chuckled. “Apparently.”

“Why?” It was the first thing that came to mind.

“Any number of reasons, I suspect.” Bewilderment shone in his blue eyes, then resolve. “None of which I wish to detail at the moment.”

“But—” She glanced around. No one seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to them. “Here? Now?” Her pulse sped up.

“We are on the top of the world.” His gaze slipped to her lips and back. “I can’t think of a better place or time.”

She swallowed hard. “But there are a great many people here.”

“And yet.” He stepped closer. “I see only you.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. “Everyone will stare.”

“Let them.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “Kissing in public, Derek, that’s highly improper and, well, scandalous.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Of course not, you’ve done worse.” She shook her head. “But I care.”

“You said you didn’t care about what other people think.”

“I lied.” She sighed. “Besides, it’s pointless.”

“Pointless?” He narrowed his gaze in confusion.

“There can never be anything between us.” This was much harder to say than she’d imagined. “I believe we agreed on that.”

“I don’t recall agreeing to anything quite that absurd.”

“It was implied.” She turned back toward the view. “When we discussed the type of woman you are expected to marry. I am not that woman.”

“Nor do I believe I said anything about marriage.” Amusement sounded in his voice.

“I am well aware of that. I am not so stuffy as to believe a kiss is a commitment to eternity.”

“God forbid.”

She ignored him. “But a kiss is more than just a frivolous moment. At least it should be. And it is for most of us. Perhaps not for you.”

“I have always liked frivolous moments.”

“And I am not the least bit frivolous. I have always thought a kiss to be something of a...a promise.”

“A beginning then?” he said cautiously.

“Well, yes. But as anything between us other than friendship is impossible, it seems foolish to begin something that cannot end well.”

“I don’t understand this at all.” He paused. “Have you never been kissed, India?”

“I am not in the habit of randomly kissing gentlemen.” Or kissing anyone at all.

“There is nothing random about this. As I have already confessed, I have given the idea of kissing you a great deal of thought. And more so in recent days.”

“Well then perhaps spontaneous is a better word.” She shrugged. “As I assume you did not plan for this particular moment.”

“No.” Frustration sounded in his voice. “And while it might have been spontaneous a moment ago, I assure you the spontaneity of it has passed.”

“Then you no longer wish to kiss me?” She held her breath.

“Oh, I still wish to kiss you.” He heaved a resigned sigh. “But this is obviously not the right moment.”

“Obviously.” She ignored the unexpected disappointment that washed through her. “If that’s settled then...” She had the most absurd desire to flee. “If you will pardon me for a moment, I wish to...um...see the view elsewhere...” She turned and stepped away, circling around the tourists in her path.

Good Lord! She stopped short. What on earth was she running from? She was nearly thirty years old and had never been kissed! She’d never so much as given it a second thought before, but now it struck her as truly awful. And somewhat pathetic. And shouldn’t she do something about it? Carpe diem, after all.

Before she could think better of it, she swiveled on her heel and marched back to Derek.

“Yes?” His brow rose.

She grabbed the lapels of his coat, rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. The most remarkable spark of something electric and quite wonderful shot through her at the feel of his warm lips against hers. He smelled vaguely of warm spice and tasted faintly of lemonade and summer.

She released him, stepped back and caught her breath. “There.”

“There?” He looked as taken aback as she felt.

“Now I have been kissed on the Eiffel Tower,” she said with a surprisingly firm nod given something had replaced her stomach with a quivering mass of aspic.

“On the contrary, my dear Miss Prendergast. I have been kissed on the Eiffel Tower. You have not.”

“You did kiss me back.”

“A natural response to being kissed, but you caught me by surprise.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “It was not my best effort.”

She frowned. “The, well, quality of the kiss cannot be blamed on me. Indeed, I thought it was...”

“Adequate, no more than adequate. And you’re absolutely right—it cannot be blamed on you.” He pulled her into his arms and stared intently down at her. “But my dear Miss Prendergast, this can.” He pressed his lips to hers.

For a moment, she froze. Then unexpected heat swept through her, and she thought she would surely melt into a small puddle of heretofore unsuspected sensation and something...more. He angled his mouth harder over hers. Her lips opened slightly, and her breath mingled with his and...and adequate was the farthest thing from her mind. And she knew without question or doubt, this kiss, this moment, this man would linger in her thoughts, in her heart for the rest of her days. Still, it wasn’t a promise or a beginning, it was no more than a foolish error in judgment.

She pulled back and struggled to catch her breath. “People are staring, Mr. Saunders.” She stared up at him. “You should, well, release me, I think.”

“I thought you didn’t care what people say?” He stared down at her.

“I don’t care what they say. I care what they see.” She drew a deep breath and pushed out of his arms. “This was...” She shook her head. “A dreadful mistake.”

“What?” His brows drew together. “Why?”

“Because I am...” She impatiently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Eroding as it were. With every minute, you are wearing me away. What I think. How I feel. The rules I have always lived my life by.” She shook her head. “And this cannot end well.”