All the while Nathaniel was intensely aware of Caroline. First she helped Mrs. McKinley to the main table, then she fetched a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of lemon cookies for the ladies. Twice she caught him admiring her, but maybe there was something about the languid weather that made it easy to let his guard down, and he didn’t look away like he normally would. It was a perfect day, and the natural beauty of the river made him long for an easel, his sketchpad, and a whole box of pastels. All around him, the sounds of the party unfolded, but he didn’t mind being alone. The beauty of the countryside and Caroline Delacroix was enough to keep him entranced for hours.

After a while, Caroline approached him at the railing. She wore summer whites with a shawl of ivory silk so delicate that it was nearly translucent as it draped across her shoulders. She stood a little closer than was proper and met his gaze.

“The other guards are all at the front tables, gorging on shrimp and crawfish,” she said. “No one will blame you if you join them.”

“I’m happy here,” he said.

Oh, she was in a mood. He could tell by the gleam warming her eyes as she twitched her shoulder, letting the shawl slip lower. The expanse of bare flesh she’d just exposed was unbelievably tempting.

“Please pull your shawl back up,” he said, fighting the smile that threatened.

“But I’m not cold.”

“I’ll have to leave unless you do.”

She put the shawl into place. “Better?”

Not really, but they were in full view of the president and the rest of the entourage who knew about his shocking weakness where Caroline was concerned, and it was for the best.

“Better,” he confirmed. They both turned to face the river, a full six inches between them, and yet their connection flared to life. He was aware of every square inch of her as they sailed farther upstream.

“Are you really going to ignore me the rest of the trip? All the way to California and back?”

“I’ve never ignored you,” he said. She was constantly in his thoughts, and he liked having her there, even if she was a distraction.

“President McKinley isn’t my father. He has no right to dictate who I court. You know what I’m asking.”

He did. Every impulse longed to close the distance between them, for he’d never been so drawn to a woman before. They were attuned to each other. They couldn’t be more different in background or comportment, but they saw the world through the same eyes. They shared the same values, the same passion for art and beauty. He wanted her, and she wanted him. They weren’t yet free but would be soon.