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her meals sent to her cabin? Right now she could be enjoying her lunch in the privacy of her own room, without these awkward questions.
    "What do you do, Mr. Masters?" Melissa Stedman was staring at Chase with wide-eyed fascination.
    "A little of everything," he said evasively. "I arrange for shipments of goods to be brought through various ports. I’m also engaged in finance."
    "You’re a banker?" her mother asked.
    "Of sorts. I get together groups of businessmen who want to invest their money."
    "Have you been on the City of Memphis before?" Melissa Stedman asked.
    "Several times. Each time proves more—beneficial," he said with a smile. His gaze caught Annalisa’s, and again she felt the strange pull of his charm.
    "You’re a Northerner." Mrs. Stedman spoke the word as if it tasted foul in her mouth.
    Chase gave her his most charming smile. "My mother was a Yankee. From proper Boston." He watched the way her lips thinned. "My father was from New Orleans. That’s where I spent most of my youth."
    "I knew you were a Southern gentleman," Melissa purred.
    Henry Watkins, stung by Melissa’s open interest in another man, seemed eager to finish his meal and take leave of his company. As soon as they enjoyed their coffee and desserts, he urged the Stedmans to depart.
    Alone at the table with this strange, compelling man, Annalisa sipped her coffee and avoided Chase’s gaze as he quietly studied her.
    "This—desire of yours, to be a nun. Is this something you’ve always wanted?"
    Annalisa ran a finger along the delicate lace of the table cover. "No. It’s something I decided when my studies were completed. Mother Superior said I had to decide what to do with the rest of my life."
    "I see." He was smiling wider now. "And did Mother Superior suggest that the convent would shelter you from the cruel world beyond its gates?"
    She heard the edge of sarcasm in his tone and forced herself to look up. Seeing his gaze center on her mouth, she quickly looked away. "She may have mentioned that. But the decision was mine."
    "Does your family approve?"
    She could feel the heat stain her cheeks. His questions were impertinent. He had no right. "Mother Superior said any mother would be proud to give a daughter to God’s work."
    "And what work is that? Teaching the ignorant? Washing the unwashed?" His gaze swept the mass of curls. "Hiding yourself under a veil?"
    "Among other things." She was beginning to resent his baiting tone. "If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Masters."
    "Forgive me, Miss Montgomery. My teasing has upset you."
    "Not at all. But I do wish to leave."
    As she began to stand, he put his hand beneath her elbow to assist her. Instantly her head came up. Her eyes widened as they looked into his. She had never before had a man touch her. The shock was instantaneous.
    Chase felt her slight tremor at this casual contact and wondered about it. Attempting to put her at ease, he said, "Have you ever been aboard a steamship before, Miss Montgomery?"
    Gripping her hands together tightly, she swallowed and lectured herself on her foolishness. The man was only being gallant.
    "No. This is my first trip."
    "Then allow me to point out a few items of interest," he said, walking along beside her.
    As they left the elegant salon and approached the rail, he turned and pointed. "Have you been up to the third deck?"
    She breathed deeply of the fresh breeze and shook her head.
    "Then you must go. There are staterooms, of course, as there are on this deck. But there is also a ballroom, a billiard room," he gave her a knowing smile, "where ladies are not permitted, and even a second dining salon, nearly as elegant as the one on this deck."
    As he spoke, he pulled a cigar from his breast pocket and held a match to the tip. As he puffed, Annalisa found herself inhaling the sharp bite of tobacco.
    "Atop the third deck," he went on, "are quarters for the boat’s officers. It’s called ‘the Texas.’"
    Annalisa arched an eyebrow. "Why the