by Joanna Shupe
He sat heavily on the bed. “Upset? Fuck, no. I don’t get upset. Ever.”
He didn’t?
Also, it was worth noting that Kit’s language leaned toward the crude after he’d been drinking. No idea why she found that bit of knowledge entertaining, but she did.
He toed off a dress shoe and kicked it, where it thumped against the wall. With jerky movements, he lowered his suspenders and started on his shirt.
“Kit, wait. Before you get undressed, I need to talk to you.”
“No time for that, Alice, my dear. My head is swimming and I am far too drunk for talking.” The shirt obscured her view of his face and he seemed to get stymied in removing it. “Help.”
Trying not to laugh, she went over and tugged his shirt over his head, down his arms. “There.”
“What’s this?” He peered at the piece of paper she’d left next to the babka plate.
“Franconi’s duckling recipe. I owed you. For earlier.”
“Thank you, but I hardly think teaching you to suck on your finger is worth those delicious ducks.”
“No?”
He flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow. Between that and his evening whiskers, he appeared quite the rogue. “God, Alice. I have never wanted to fuck anyone more than I do you. I cannot stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try.”
Alice froze. Did he just say . . . ? Her?
No, that had to be the alcohol talking.
He chuckled darkly. “And it is very hard. All the time.”
“Kit—”
“I meant my cock. In case that wasn’t clear. My cock is hard all the time for you.”
She couldn’t help it; her gaze flew to his crotch. Was it hard now? She couldn’t see anything but a normal bulge. Though it was quite a nice bulge, she supposed.
Stop. You should leave.
“I’ll just . . . get you a glass of water before I go.”
Going into the washroom, she found a glass on the sink, which she filled and brought out to Kit. He was pushing his trousers off his hips and down his thighs, and Alice thought her skin might go up in flames.
She covered her eyes with her palm and tried to edge her way to the nightstand.
“You don’t have to hide your eyes. Consider this another one of our lessons. This is what a man looks like in just his undergarment.”
“This is not a good idea.” She already had more than friendly feelings for him. Seeing him nearly undressed would tip her into serious “like” territory.
“Ah, so you’d rather see me naked? That can be arranged. Give me a minute.”
“Kit!” She dropped her hand and put the glass on the nightstand. He was sitting on the bed, long limbs covered in a thin cotton that only emphasized every ridge and valley. A shadow of dark hair rested on his chest, while wide, sculpted shoulders pushed against the cloth. She didn’t dare look lower.
Even still, he was beautiful.
Inhaling deeply, she said, “Stop. I don’t wish to see you naked.”
A deep crease formed between his brows. “You don’t?”
“No.” Not like this. Sober, yes. But he was not in his right mind and would only regret this tomorrow. “You need to drink some water and go to sleep.”
The half grin he gave her, along with the affection in his gaze, made her chest ache. “This is what I am talking about,” he said. “You are a good person. Kind to everyone, even your mother—who definitely does not deserve it. You’ve put aside your interest in cooking just to make her happy. You treat everyone the same, no matter their class or profession. Or reputation. Look at me, for example.”
She blinked a few times, stunned. Were these drunken ramblings . . . or was this really what he believed? No one had ever spoken so favorably about her before. Also, no one had ever seen past the shyness or the wall she’d built up to keep out the loneliness before. Her insides melted on a wave of tenderness and longing.
Stepping closer, she bent to remove his other shoe. “And just what is wrong with you?”
His shoulders rose and fell with a shrug before he dropped back on the bed once more. “I’m a fool. A pretty but dim bulb. It’s why I’m so good at being a scoundrel.”
“That is not true,” she said quickly.
“It most definitely is. As shallow as a saucer, my father used to say.”
What an awful thing to say to a child. “You said your father was a terrible man.”
“He is definitely that. I know I shouldn’t care but insults sink inside and fester, especially when they come from parents.”
Indeed, they did. Hadn’t Alice discovered that better than almost anyone?
Kit continued. “But you, my dear Alice, you are the opposite of me. You are deep and complicated, like the ocean. I could study you for years and never learn all I wished to know.”
Her hands refused to work, her brain trying to absorb his compliment. While she was flattered, it hurt that he had such a low opinion of himself. Kit radiated confidence, an easy swagger that drew attention no matter where he went. Was that all an act? Did he really believe he was nothing more than a pretty face?
The idea that he might nearly broke her heart. Just because he was handsome and popular did not mean he was shallow or dim. Kit was smart. He knew how to read people, how to interact with them. Which was precisely the reason why his supper club would undoubtedly become wildly successful.
She opened her mouth to tell him all of this and realized his eyes had closed. His chest expanded rhythmically, his breathing regular, while his arms were relaxed at his sides. Indeed, though his pants were halfway down his thighs, it seemed he’d fallen asleep. Her heart twisted, then squeezed, brimming with something far more meaningful than she was willing to admit.
After removing his trousers and covering him with a blanket, Alice tiptoed from the bedroom and into the corridor. The house was deathly quiet, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Which mostly centered around Kit and everything he’d said tonight.
Had he meant any of it?
The next afternoon, Kit pulled his hat lower as he strode toward the tent outside. Why was it so dashed bright out here? His head throbbed, as if an ice pick repeatedly stabbed his temple. Jesus, why did he drink so much last night?
No telling how long he stood with Harrison on the terrace, sharing not one but two bottles of scotch. Everything that followed was hazy, but he recalled Alice in his room. She’d brought him a slice of the bread she helped bake earlier . . . and he couldn’t remember anything else. What had he said? He’d been naked when he awoke this morning. Had she undressed him?
Worse, had he undressed in front of her?
God, he hoped not. She’d never talk to him again, if that were the case. No doubt he horrified her enough with his inebriation and ramblings; adding his cock to the mix would prove disastrous.
The back of his neck heated with a rare bout of embarrassment. He dreaded facing her today. Rarely did he drink so much these days, but she wouldn’t know that. She must think him a terrible lush.
“You look about as miserable as I feel,” Nellie said as she came alongside.
“Thanks,” he grumbled. “Did you drink too much scotch last night, as well?”
“No, but this is the last place I want to be at the moment.” They started along the path, gravel crunching beneath their shoes. “I wish Harrison would hurry up already so we can go home.”
“I thought you were having a good time.” Kit studied her profile. “You know, strolling near the male guest chambers.”
“Hardly.” She put a hand on his arm and drew to a halt. “Kit, I wanted to say something. About Alice.”
“There’s no need to—”
“Stop. I know your type, which means there is every need.” She exhaled slowly. “Not many young women my age are kind to me. Yet, Alice is. Always. She’s a good person. Decent. She doesn’t deserve to be toyed with or—God forbid—ruined. Do you understand what I am saying
?”
Kit’s hands clenched into fists, so he shoved them in his trouser pockets. Really, he couldn’t blame Nellie, who was only looking out for Alice’s best interests—and Kit was not in Alice’s best interest. Anyone could see that. Which was why he’d decided to keep their interactions strictly platonic from now on. “I understand. There is nothing to be worried about. We have a business relationship of sorts, not a romantic one.”
“I am happy to hear it. Because if you hurt her, I will find you in your sleep and relieve you of a body part. Can you guess which one?” With one last pointed glare, she strolled away, whistling on her way to the tent.
Kit shook his head, then winced. Damn hangover. Still, Nellie’s warning was a necessary reminder. Whatever was happening between him and Alice—the kissing, the love bites, the flirting—needed to end, and their association must remain aboveboard. He would treat her politely, if not distantly, and they would exchange information at the end of the day. And definitely not in his bedroom.
He entered the back of the tent and purposely did not look in the direction of the young ladies. Lockwood stood near the refreshment table, so Kit headed there, intent on finding something to settle his stomach. “Afternoon, Lockwood,” he mumbled as he arrived.
Then he spotted the cinnamon babka on the table, and his brain began tripping over the memories. They were all centered on Alice, sucking sugar off her finger, rubbing the digit over her tongue, working her lips up and down . . .
Swallowing hard, he reached for a slice of lemon pound cake and tried to forget how aroused he’d been in the kitchen last night.
“Ward,” Lockwood greeted. “I noticed you and Archer were absent from luncheon. I do hope no one has grown ill.”
Please. Lockwood would wish a plague on Harrison, if it were possible. “No need for concern. Just a bit too much scotch. Did you spend another night at the casino?”
“No. I enjoyed a quiet evening with my fiancée.”
Kit hoped Harrison hadn’t heard that news. “Any clue what is planned for this afternoon?”
“Another game. Just the unattached ladies and Harrison this time, so we are off the hook.”
“That’s a relief. I don’t think I could take another hike around the property at the moment.”
“You are looking a bit green, if I am honest.”
“I’ll be fine.” Unable to stop himself, his gaze traveled the room until he found Alice. She was staring at him from under her lashes, her brows pinched in concern.
Kit, is there something wrong?
He jerked his eyes away and gave her his back. She’d asked that question last night . . . but why? Blast, he hated not remembering. When he was that drunk, he was prone to talk about his family, his father, and how he had disappointed them all. Preston said the more Kit drank, the more morose he became. Had Alice seen him wallowing in self-pity?
Sighing, he rubbed his eyes.
“Certainly no one would care if you went back to bed,” the duke said.
Not sure why, but the comment stung. “And deprive the ladies of the most handsome and charming man here? I couldn’t possibly. No, as you Brits say, stiff upper lip and all that.”
A familiar brown-haired woman appeared on Lockwood’s other side. The duke, being absurdly polite, turned so as to not give her his back. “Miss Lusk,” he said, with a tip of his straw hat.
“Your Grace,” she returned with a small smile. “I trust you are well this fine afternoon.”
“Indeed. It is a lovely day and I cannot complain about the company.”
Alice didn’t bother greeting Kit. She acted as if he weren’t even there, instead studying the treats on the table.
“May I fetch you a slice of cake, Miss Lusk?” The duke gestured to the food. “Or a macaron?”
“Have you tried that sweet bread, Your Grace? That one there?” She pointed to the babka. “I think it looks divine.”
“No, I haven’t. Shall we try it together?”
Kit ground his teeth, wishing he could boast of Alice’s skills in helping to make the cinnamon bread.
“I’d like that.”
Lockwood cut two slices and dished them up, handing the first plate to Alice. She waited for the duke to have his own before lifting the bread with her fingers. “Three, two, one . . .”
At the same time, they both took a bite, and Kit ripped his gaze away from Alice’s mouth. Damn it all to hell. Had she done that purposely, knowing he’d be watching?
“Alice!” Mrs. Lusk rushed over and snatched the plate from Alice’s hands. “There’s no need for gluttony. We must leave some of the bread for others,” she hissed, then presented the duke with a saccharine-sweet smile. “Please forgive her rudeness, Your Grace.”
“There is naught to forgive, Mrs. Lusk. I’ve been known to have quite the sweet tooth myself.”
With one last sharp look in Alice’s direction, Mrs. Lusk carried the plate away and returned to her seat. Alice shrank, her eyes fixed on the grass under their feet, and Kit had the strangest urge to bundle her up in his arms and take her anywhere but here.
“Would you like the rest of mine?” Lockwood held his plate out to Alice. “I won’t let her see, I promise.”
“Your Grace is very kind, but that is not necessary.” Alice’s voice was small, defeated, and Kit wanted to flip the refreshment table in fury. How dare Mrs. Lusk crush Alice’s confidence like that? Alice motioned to the chairs. “I should return to my seat, anyway.” She hurried toward the unmarried ladies and sat, her eyes downcast.
Kit’s hands trembled with the need to comfort her, so he shoved them in his trouser pockets instead.
Keep your distance. It’s for the best.
Maddie walked to the front of the tent, where she explained the rules of the game. Kit left the refreshment table and went to sit next to Harrison, who wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the words coming out of Maddie’s mouth. When the game started, Harrison didn’t move.
Kit lifted a brow at his friend. “Weren’t listening, were you?”
“No. What are we doing?”
“Oh, not we. You.”
Harrison’s gaze darted at the faces in the tent, everyone watching him closely. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Sardines. You’re to hide and the ladies will find you.”
A game Kit was more than glad to sit out. Hangover or not, he didn’t feel up to an adult game of hide-and-seek. Unless he could hide with Alice in a very dark, very secluded spot.
Shit. He rubbed his forehead. This had to stop.
With some not-so-subtle maneuvering, Harrison convinced Maddie to hide first, which meant he and all the ladies quickly departed. Kit and Lockwood were left with the chaperones.
Alice didn’t even look back as she hurried from the tent.
Chapter Ten
“Alice, wait up.”
Alice didn’t slow at the feminine voice. Instead, she kept moving away from the tent, away from the scene of her latest humiliation.
We must leave some of the bread for others.
How mortifying. What must Kit think of Alice now? She couldn’t face him again, not ever. The duke had been kind, but Kit hadn’t said a word. Just observed the entire scene, probably pitying her. And she wouldn’t blame him for it one bit.
Every day with her mother was a struggle. Alice tried to stay positive, to keep from drowning in the shame Mama heaped on her shoulders, but there were days when it all felt like too much. Today was one of those days. Mama had been irritable since waking up and learning that Alice had overslept. This had led to biting comments and spiteful accusations during the morning and early afternoon. Now this scene in front of Kit? Alice wanted to die.
This is why I need lessons from you, she wanted to shout. Yet her voice, along with her confidence, had disappeared after her mother’s words.
“Alice.” Nellie appeared and forced Alice to stop. “Where are you going?”
Alice looked up. Goodness, she was headed toward the
beach, to the wide expanse of ocean and sky. Maddie clearly wasn’t hiding in a conch shell, so it probably seemed like a silly choice. But when Alice left the tent, she hadn’t been thinking of anything other than escaping. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking.”
Nellie’s expression softened. “I can tell.” She linked their arms together and continued toward the water. “Did the duke say something to upset you?”
“No!” Alice shook her head. “He was very kind.”
“Mr. Ward, then. I should have known—”
“No, no.” Alice stopped and heaved a sigh. “It was my mother. She can be . . . overbearing at times.”
“That is putting it politely. She makes dragons seem cuddly. I bet you will be glad to get out from under her thumb.”
An understatement. “Yes, and if I weren’t so terrible with men, it would have already happened.”
“Oh, Alice. That’s not true. You aren’t intimidated by the duke, certainly. I’ve seen you walk up and speak to him several times.” She led Alice toward the water again, the ocean breeze rustling their skirts. “And you and Kit have formed a certain friendship.”
The words and the way Nellie said them gave Alice pause. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s obvious the two of you are friendly.”
“It is?” Her cheeks grew hot. Had the other ladies noticed? Had her mother noticed? Oh, goodness. Was she making an utter fool of herself at every turn?
“Calm down,” Nellie said in a soothing voice. “I meant it is obvious to me. No one else has noticed a thing. I promise.”
“Katherine caught me staring at him. Maddie, as well. Everyone must think I am ridiculous, thinking myself capable of a man like that.”
“Whoa. I think you and I had better have a chat. This sounds more complicated than I assumed.”
They continued to the stone steps that led down to the ocean and sat. Alice arranged her skirts, hoping to minimize the damage to her pleats. Nellie unpinned her hat and turned her face up to the sun. “God, that feels good. I hate wearing hats.”
Alice studied this bold and unique woman at her side. How she wished she could be more like Nellie. “Is it true you spiked the punch at your debutante ball?”
