And yet the thought of it made her chest ache.
“Lady Theodora.”
She looked up.Wesley stood at the gap in the hedge, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
“Your Grace.”She rose, smoothing her skirts.“I didn't expect company.”
“You left rather abruptly.Lady Caroline seemed concerned.”
“Lady Caroline is the soul of consideration.”The words came out sharper than she intended.
Wesley's brow furrowed.“Has Lady Caroline or one of the guests done something to offend you?”
Yes.No.She didn't know.He was standing three feet away in his perfect coat with his perfect posture, looking at her with polite concern.She wanted to grab him by the cravat and drag his mouth down to hers, so she would know if her kiss would affect him.
“I'm merely tired,” she said instead.“The Season is exhausting.”
“On that we agree.”She felt her expression change to one of weariness, maybe, or frustration.Then it was gone, smoothed away as though it had never existed.“I should return.My mother will notice my absence.”
“Of course.We wouldn't want that.”
He hesitated, as though he wanted to say more.Thea held her breath.The afternoon light caught the sharp line of his jaw, and she remembered the way his touch had felt during the waltz.How badly she'd wanted him to pull her closer.And she still ached for it.
“Enjoy the rest of the party,” he said and walked away.
She watched him go, that familiar tenderness settling beneath her ribs.For just a moment, she'd seen him—the real Wesley.
And she wouldn’t be able to exist in a world where another woman claimed that version of him.
The Silver Fox was busier than usual, but Thea's corner table remained hers.
She'd been coming here for over a year, long enough that Parker kept her seat open, and the other regulars knew not to challenge her claim.Tonight she needed it more than ever.The garden party had left her restless, and only the cards could settle her.
She was three hands in when Wesley arrived with Louis and Max in tow.
He moved through the room with an ease reminiscent of the old Wesley.She'd seen him a handful of times now at the Fox, but it still undid her—watching him become so much like the man she had fallen in love with years ago.
“Kit.”Louis dropped into the chair to her left, already signaling for whiskey.“Ready to take more of our money?”
“Always.”
Wesley took the seat on her other side, and his knee brushed against hers beneath the table.The contact lasted only a second, but heat shot up her thigh.She shifted in her seat, trying to settle herself.
Max made himself comfortable at the table's edge, content to observe as usual.He rarely played, but he watched everything.Thea had learned to be even more careful around him.
“Back for more?”Kit asked Wesley, dealing the cards with quick efficiency.She kept her voice rough, steady.“I thought I cleaned you out last time.”
“I've replenished my funds.”Wesley picked up his hand, and she watched his fingers curl around the cards.She'd often thought about those hands all over her body, considering how those fingers would feel in the most scandalous places.“And I'm feeling lucky.”
“Famous last words.”
The game settled into an easy rhythm.Win, lose, banter, drink.Wesley was playing better tonight.He took two hands in a row and shot Kit a triumphant look that made her stomach flip.
But then she won the next three.
“Damn and hell,” she muttered, pulling the coins toward her.“That's a pretty pot.”
Wesley laughed.A real laugh—the kind that transformed his face and made her want to lean over to him and taste it on his mouth.“You say that every time.”
