“Because I need to tell you, Miss Carroll, that I like you too. I like your quick mind and your kind heart and your bold spirit. You make me think as I had forgotten I could and laugh as I thought I never would again.” “I… I…” Oh God, what was she to do? She had to stop this. But she couldn’t. She yearned for it too badly: so much she’d never dared want, now falling into her hands, as effortless as blossom in spring. “I know,” he went on hesitantly, “we have been acquainted for barely more than a week. But I would like to be the man you believe I can be.”
