Page 9 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
“Ah, another clue. You are a scientist.”
He shot her a flirtatious smile. “I’m onto you, Isis. You’re trying to guess my secret without giving me the honor of accepting my invitation for tea.”
“It’s true, I haven’t accepted,yet. But I also haven’t turned down the invitation.”
“A woman who likes to keep her options open.”
“Always.” She glanced again at his unfinished drawing. “Please don’t stop on my account.”
He turned and sat on the large rock behind him, gesturing for her to do the same. He dusted the boulder with his hand. “I have no jacket to spread for you.”
“Good. It’s far too hot for one, and I have no fear of a little dust.” She sat down beside him. “Tell me about this plant.”
He slanted her a wry grin. “Oleander. Interestingly enough, this plant is a lot like a woman. As you can see, the delicate pink blooms are a delight to behold. But she harbors a secret. A single petal is toxic enough to kill a man. Beautiful but deadly. Nature’s lethal combination.”
Isis laughed. “You think women are deadly?”
“Maybe not in the sense of swords and pistols, but your sex doles out ample quantities of sweet poison capable of wrenching a man’s heart from his chest with a single kiss.”
“Historically, I believe swords and pistols have been far more effective.”
“What of Helen of Troy?”
“What of Anne Boleyn?”
His gaze locked with hers. He’d known she was beautiful, but her quick wit was equally as intoxicating. “It’s settled, then. Men and women are each other’s undoing, equally and as lethally toxic as this plant.” He pointed a hand at the oleander.
“Oh, I don’t know. It seems some couplings heal rather than kill. I was born and raised in a garden, not unlike this one, and my parents were nothing if not medicine for each other. They knew nothing but happiness.”
“A rare combination, then.”
“Maybe it all comes down to the dose.” She stood. “I should go, before my company starts to taste bitter.”
“Non, I haven’t had nearly enough of your poison.” He grabbed her wrist playfully. Their eyes locked again, and it was as if he’d captured lightning in a jar. A shock ran up his arm, and his entire body tingled with the need to touch more of her, to taste her.
Slowly, she pulled her arm from his grip. “Another time.” She curtsied and then moved down the path toward the entrance to the garden.
He looked back at the oleander tree, thinking he should be content to let her go. Then he thought better of it. He’d ask to court her, find out where she lived, and make a habit of stopping by. He popped off his rock and raced after her, but Isis was gone.
* * *
It wasanother three days before he saw her again. This time, he’d left the site where he was overseeing the construction of the new convent and found a shady, moss-covered spot to rest, just beyond the limits of the Vieux Carré, when she appeared with a picnic basket on her arm.
“Isis Tanglewood, what in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
She grinned. “Investigating. It seems I’ve discovered another of your talents.” She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the convent. “You build things.”
“I design buildings,” he corrected. “It’s not I who wields the hammer.”
“An architect and a scientist. There. I know all your secrets.” She was wearing a green dress today, and before he could say another word, she spread a blanket beside him and dug into the basket. He hadn’t eaten anything since early that morning, and he accepted the plate she made for him with genuine gratitude.
“Do you make it a habit of trolling the street with picnic baskets for any man lucky enough to catch your attention?”
“Oh, I packed this one especially for you.”
His heart did a jig at the thought. “How did you know where I would be?”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I’m incredibly resourceful.”
