"How was the dinner?"
Noah's smooth voice drifted toward Gianna like an added indulgence to the allure of the night beneath the full moon.
It sounded richer out here, softened by open air and the hush of nature. Even better that they were walking through the gardens now, where the scent of flowers wrapped around her senses and made her relax, made her feel—as absurd as it seemed—as though she were back home.
"Better than I expected," she murmured.
Her smile deepened when he squeezed the hand held in his, the gentle pressure reassuring.
He tugged her playfully toward a nearby bench, and she slowed when she noticed its design—ornate wrought iron with carved wooden slats, elegant yet understated.
She could swear it was the same style as the few benches scattered through old Mr. Thorne's garden.
They must really be close friends, she thought, to share the same taste in design.
Only Isaac's version of things leaned far more toward the extravagant than Mr. Thorne's ever did.
