“You believe me austere?” he asked. Ana María nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “I believe you can be. Not all the time, of course, but the more I come to know you, the more I think it just a part of your character.” “Interesting,” Gideon murmured, angling his head to stare out the carriage window. He sensed rather than saw her look up at him. “I hope I have not offended you.” “Of course not.” Against his better judgment, Gideon patted her knotted hands, his skin feeling hot and flushed. “It is just unfathomable to me that I’ve managed to hide how much you affect me.”
