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miles.”
    “It’s less than two miles, actually.”
    “Factor in that it’s also cold and the snow is burying everything and you might as well be walking fourteen miles.”
    “It’s the first winter snow.” She spread her arms up into the frosty air of whirling snow. “I’m very much enjoying it.”
    He snorted. “Only because your nose hasn’t frozen off quite yet. Never mind the weather, you shouldn’t be walking home alone. It’s dark.”
    “Is it?” Lowering her arms, she arched a brow. “And here I thought it was morning.”
    He gave her a withering look as snow whirled in around them. “I don’t like being teased when I’m trying to be helpful.”
    She sighed and reached out, patting his arm, remembering all too well how serious he always was. “You should go. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She paused from her patting, noting the arm beneath his great coat was rather well muscled. That was new.
    He stiffened and stared down at her as if she had slapped him, not patted him. “Enjoying yourself?”
    She quickly withdrew her hand, knowing she had overstepped her bounds. He was a man, not a boy of seventeen. Her cheeks blazed against the cold wind. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to—”
    “There is nothing to forgive, I assure you.” He set his shoulders. “Though I will admit it has been some time since I was patted by a woman as if I were ten.”
    “I have no doubt of that. No doubt at all.” Trying to break the awkwardness, she thumbed toward the direction of the shop beside them. “I should go. I have a cake to purchase for your aunt.”
    “Nonsense. Allow me to buy it for you.” He pointed to the window. “Which one did you want? I’ll have the shop deliver it to her in the morning with a note saying it’s from you.”
    She shook her head. “No. I have more than enough to buy it myself, thank you.”
    “Jane. Please don’t pretend we don’t know each other.”
    Something about the way he said it made her fully aware that everything between them had long since changed. She huddled against her cloak and shawl, the cold getting the best of her. “I’m tired is all. It was lovely seeing you again. Good night.” She lowered her gaze and tried to move around him, lest she linger or stupidly inquire as to whether he had married. She didn’t even know why she wanted to know.
    He stepped before her, preventing her from leaving with his large frame. “Years ago, I would have let you walk by. But I’m not that man anymore. Do you understand?”
    She glanced up, her heart pounding as he moved his broad, heated body even closer. Close enough for her skirts to touch his great coat and fine wool trousers.
    She edged back, fully aware her toes wanted to curl in her boots in response to the way he had maneuvered his heat and his body into hers. This had trouble scraped all over it. Because her toes only ever curled when she was ready to kiss. “Please don’t do this.”
    He eyed her. “Do what?”
    “You’re standing too close. Step back.”
    He slowly put his hands up but didn’t break their gaze. “I’m not touching you.”
    She edged back again. “You might as well be.”
    He lowered his chin and his hands. “But I’m not.”
    She pointed. “Your trousers were touching my skirts.”
    His expression was one of pained tolerance. “Forgive me. I simply don’t want you walking home alone in this weather or buying anything.”
    She pointed at him again. “I don’t want to argue with you.”
    “Then don’t.” He searched her face. “I’m about to change your life, Jane. All I ask is that you let me.”
    A pulsing knot overtook her throat. He was serious.
    His aloofness showed on his rugged face. “We used to be close, you and I. We used to be incredibly good friends. Before the opera swept you away.”
    Why did everything feel so different between them? “Yes. I know.”
    He shifted closer, the crisp scent of mint wafting in the cold air between them again.