You also, he said, lowering his voice, haven't yetthanked me for saving you from sitting in the flower bed.She didn't even look up. It was entirely your fault that I nearly did. If you hadn't sneaked up on me, I wouldn't have been in any danger of landing in the weeds. She glanced briefly at him, a touch of color in her cheeks. A gentleman would have coughed or something.Vane trapped her gaze, and smiled—a slow, Cynster smile. Ah, he murmured, his voice very low. He shifted fractionally closer. But, you see, I'm not a gentleman. I'm a Cynster. As if letting her into some secret, he gently informed her: We're conquerors—not gentlemen.