“What do you like to do, Catherine?” He seemed to attempt small talk. “What are your interests?”
“Nothing I can enjoy here.” She tipped her head back toward the house and shrugged her shoulders, defeated. “Most of the things I enjoyed while I lived in England were things Grandmother Melanie has made it clear are improper.”
“Like what?” Dawson lowered his voice and leaned toward her. “Splashing in the ocean in the middle of the night?”
Catherine whipped her head back around, her heart thudding in her ears at the remark. A guilty smile brightened Dawson’s face.
Had he been there?
Had he been the presence she sensed the night before?
“You spied on me last night? How dare you.” Her skin crawled with deep crimson heat.