35

She had that look of curious wonder in her lovely green eyes again—almost childlike in its wishful search for understanding.

It tugged at Peter. He barely resisted the urge to tell her,” You’re my adventure, Erin Lavelle.”

That truth could very well offend her, make her withdraw from him, halt his progress in finding out more about her. So far, it was all good. No boyfriend.

What family she had—divorced parents—had no strong claim on her. She was free to do whatever she chose, and tonight she’d chosen to have dinner with him before going off to a party.

Not that she would get to that party.

Peter was determined on holding her with him.

“Today has not been my usual scene,” he conceded, aware she wanted to be given a reasonable explanation for his actions. But it has felt surprisingly good and I guess I want to finish it up still feeling good.”

“Why were you in the park?” she asked, pinning him down to detail. Because you were there.

Would she be flattered to hear that? Or frightened?

H