The Texan's Courtship Lessons. Noelle Marchand

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       Chapter Two

      Sometimes... Well... Rarely, Isabelle had an idea so brilliant she surprised even herself. As she stepped from the fire escape to the roof of the hotel with Rhett right behind her, she knew this was one of those times. Rhett didn’t seem quite as convinced. He frowned at the flat expanse that slanted only slightly toward the back of the building. “Are you sure this roof is safe?”

      “Certainly. It was inspected only a few weeks ago. It’s in tip-top shape.”

      He glanced at her curiously. “You know that for a fact? How?”

      “I just do.” Her father was a silent partner at the hotel in addition to being the owner of Peppin’s best boardinghouse, but there was no reason to mention that and give a hint to her identity yet. “It sure is dark up here. I guess we should have picked up a lantern or a candle when we stopped to get my coat.”

      He shook his head. “We wouldn’t want to chance a fire.”

      “True.” The soft glow from the gardens below drew her toward the back edge of the roof. Suddenly, the cold wind changed direction with a mighty swirl that made her stretch out her arms and close her eyes. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly? Imagine. The ground racing by beneath you. Nothing holding you up but air. It must be so freeing.”

      “Yeah, we won’t be trying that tonight.” He caught her arm and guided her away from the edge.

      “Am I worrying you, Rhett?”

      “Not at all.” His nodding head belied his statement.

      She laughed. “Well, if I can’t fly, how am I supposed to have my adventure?”

      He thought for a moment then grinned. “I’ve never danced on a rooftop, have you?”

      “Danced on a... No, I can’t say I have, but there’s no music.” Realizing she could still hear the faint strains of a reel from the ballroom, she amended, “Leastwise, none loud enough to be useful.”

      He pulled his harmonica from his pocket, which she was pretty sure was its permanent residence. “I thought you’d never ask.”

      “I didn’t.”

      He ignored her. “Stay on this side of the roof if you want to avoid breaking your neck. How about a waltz—Chopin, Number Seven?”

      “Is that a rhetorical question?”

      It was. She shook her head when he began playing almost before she’d even finished talking. Her protests fled after his first few notes. They were soulful, smooth, lilting. Her lashes drifted closed without her permission as the passion he infused into each note enveloped her like a warm embrace. Before she knew it, the last note was fading into the night. She opened her eyes to find Rhett watching her with a bemused half smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t dance.”

      “That was... You...didn’t, either. Play it again, Rhett.”

      This time she couldn’t break away from his riveting gaze as he started over from the beginning. She swayed in time with the music then smiled when he mirrored her movements so that it felt as if they were dancing together without even touching. The sway became a waltz. Isabelle spun, her skirt swirling out around her. Rhett brushed past her. Suddenly, they were waltzing around each other, nearly colliding at times but never touching, held only by each other’s gaze until Rhett drew out the last note long enough to give a deep, courtly bow. She responded in character with a regal curtsy.

      A gust of wind swirled past her with enough force to urge her a step closer to Rhett, yet she hardly felt the cold as she responded to the warmth of his smile with one of her own. The faint sounds filtering up from the party below turned into a full-blown commotion. She forced herself to speak, though her words came out rather low and breathless. “I suppose it must be midnight.”

      “Must be.” He tilted his head and lifted a brow. “There’s a small matter of tradition, you know.”

      “Tradition?” She watched the focus of his amber eyes shift toward her lips. Realization spread through at the speed of her racing heart and instant blush. “Oh, I suppose there is. However, under the circumstances...”

      He eased close enough that she had to tilt her head back slightly to look at him. She had a feeling she should step back, but the message didn’t quite make it to her feet, which stayed resolutely put. The moon drifted from behind a cloud to highlight the strong angle of his jaw and she got a little distracted. She’d been saying something. “What I mean is, I don’t think it’s necessary...”

      A distant whine filled the air before a pop of sound and color filled the night sky. The fireworks were starting. She should point that out. My, but he was taking his time, wasn’t he? If he really was going to kiss her, why didn’t he do it instead of hovering a breath away and making her all sorts of confused? Her lashes fluttered closed of their own accord. His first kiss was featherlight and unsatisfyingly brief. Just as disappointment set in, he kissed her again. This time, pressing one hand against her back to draw her closer and tilting her chin upward. She leaned into him.

      Light flashed against her closed eyes while a boom rattled the building beneath her feet. She assumed it was a side effect of the kiss until Rhett pulled her down to kneel on the roof beside him. Dazed, she stared up at the black sky as balls of colored fire rained toward them, out of control and dangerously close. She screamed as sizzling green light whizzed past her, then she covered her ears as the explosions continued. “What is happening?”

      “The fireworks. They’re misfiring. We need to get off this roof. Now.”

      He practically carried her to the fire escape. She tried to keep up with him as they began their descent but her skirt billowed in the wind, making it hard for her to see each step. Rhett offered her a guiding hand. She shook her head. “Go on ahead. You’ll make it down faster without me. I’ll be right behind you.”

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