“You should be,” he retorted. “I just find it strange that I don’t have any clear memories of being at sea. I remember other things, but not that.”

“Other things? Like what?”

“Like kissing. And touching. And—”

“I see,” she said hastily, her color high. “You know, the doctor did say that it is not unusual for someone with an injury such as yours to remember the incidentals in life, but not the details.”

“Yes, but…you’d think I’d remember something. Anything.” He looked at the sky, and knit his brow, trying his hardest to look bemused and sad. “I certainly wish I could.”

“There, Captain.” She placed her hand on his arm and looked earnestly at him. “I’ve no doubt that one day your entire memory will pop right back into your head.”

If he was a good actor, then she was a splendid actress. But he was up to the challenge. He placed one of his hands over hers and leaned down to gaze into her eyes. “What surprises me the most is that I do not, at least, remember you.”

She tried to remove her hand, but he wouldn’t allow it.

He further pinned his quarry with a smile. “Of all the things a man should never forget, the woman he loves is foremost. He would remember a number of things beyond her name. The curve of her cheek. The feel of her lips on his. The taste of her.”

Her gaze dropped down to rest on the tips of her shoes. “Ah. Yes. Well.”

Chase nodded as if thinking. “I wonder…” He waited.

She lifted her gaze, her color still high. “What?”

He stepped forward, closing the space between them. She stood before him, her head barely reaching his shoulder. She was a tiny thing, all bone and brown hair.

But her eyes…they saved her from plainness and more. Wide and finely shaped, fringed with thick black lashes, they shone with intelligence, brimmed with irritation, and flashed with humor.

In the brief time he’d known her, he’d seen all that and more.

Chase glanced at the others, but they were on the opposite side of the field, fixing the fence. Smiling down at her, he lifted his hand and brushed it down her cheek. Her skin slid silky smooth beneath his, and a tingle of awareness shot through him like lightning across water.

Chase almost pulled back his hand. He knew the feeling of attraction, of heated lust that precluded every chase. But this…this was something more.

Suddenly, he no longer wished to kiss her just to tease her. The kiss would be for him, to put to rest this irritating attraction he felt. “Tell me something, Harriet. Tell me something about you.” He lingered over her name, tasting it thoroughly.

From beneath the brim of her hat, her face flushed a shade darker. “What do you want to know?”

“How intimate were we?”

She swallowed, the line of her throat surprisingly graceful. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Captain. Indeed, I hope you aren’t—”