An Officer but No Gentleman by Bronwyn Scott Page B

about him and his pleasure.
    “Tell me, Grahame. I know there have been others,” she cajoled.
    Too many to count, actually, but he couldn’t tell her that or why. “There’s been enough to know there’s never been one like you.” It wasn’t truly an answer but it would have to do. There never were good answers to those questions. At least this answer was true, far too true. This glimpse of what life could be like with Elowyn Bagshaw beside him was far too tempting, far too close to the fantasy he hungered for in his heart. But like all fantasies, it could be shattered with a confession or two. That’s how he knew it wasn’t real.

Chapter Eleven
    Life with Grahame Westmore was one giant adventure. The longer the adventure lasted, the more convinced Elowyn was she didn’t want to give it up. Neither did she know what to do about it. Nothing lasted forever. She would genuinely miss him when it was over. But she’d miss her principles and her control more if she prolonged this beyond what was prudent.
    She’d not thought things would progress this far. She’d waited, fully expecting the novelty of the road would wear off amid the dirty, dusty realities of travel. She’d waited, thinking the sensual edge he roused so thoroughly, so regularly, would dull after nights in his arms. But neither had happened. If anything, the sensuality between them had grown, enhanced by long conversations throughout the day. Theirs was no longer the physical joining of strangers but the intimacy of lovers who knew one another. Although she had begun to wonder lately if there were a stronger emotional attachment on her part, especially since she was certain he was keeping a secret, suggesting perhaps that the intimacy didn’t run as deeply for him.
    She was conscious, too, that the journey bore the stamp of the surreal. From the moment they left Ostend and headed south for Vienna, this adventure was a time apart, not truly part of the real world. Their world was no longer about schedules and the demands others made on her time. There was no household to organize, no entertainments to attend. There was only her and Grahame. He was the sole focus of her world and she of his. It wasn’t normal. Reality didn’t work that way.
    Reality was full of items that competed for that time and attention. When they reached Vienna everything would change. She would have her father to look after, a house to coordinate, new people to meet. And Grahame would do what? She didn’t know. He’d probably go back to England. His job would be over unless she could induce him to stay. Perhaps she could appeal to her father to get him a position with the British consulate there. The closer they got to Vienna, the more such plans dominated her thoughts.
    “Watch out for the branch!” Grahame called, breaking into her thoughts just in time for her to avoid a collision with a low-hanging tree limb. Elowyn pulled her mare, a purchase in Ostend, to the left and smiled apologetically.
    Grahame pulled Aramis up alongside her. “You were wool-gathering. Is everything all right?”
    No, everything wasn’t all right. They were two days out from Vienna. She was going to lose him and she didn’t have a coping mechanism in place. Usually when it was time for an affair to end, she merely began to distance herself but she didn’t want to employ such tactics with Grahame and waste the time they had left.
    She couldn’t confess to any of it. He wouldn’t want her to cling to him and feel pushed into a corner where his honor demanded him to do something contrary to his wishes. Most of all, she didn’t want to compromise their last two nights together.
    “I was thinking we’ll be there soon.” She could say that much, at least.
    Grahame gave her one of his boyish grins. “I’d wager you’re already dreaming of a hot bath.”
    “Among other things.” She didn’t think she’d ever bathe without recalling their intimate bath in Ostend and the pleasure that