She sighed.
Hector had not thought her beautiful in the city, under the light oflarge chandeliers with her hair up and gloves on her hands. But her loose black hair, thick and long, contrasted well with the rough stones behind her, and there was a charm about her hazel eyes, which never bore the same color in this land. She was looking at him now with eyes that were more golden than green, stung by his refusal, and he felt moved to place a cool, chaste kiss upon her forehead.
The girl seemed amazed and he himself was embarrassed by the gesture, but before he could apologize for it, he felt her hands slipping up and pulling him down for a kiss on the mouth. There was a comical element to it. A lady coaxing a man into a kiss, and she did not know how to do it properly, anyway.
Nina pressed her mouth to his, though, and he found his hands knotting in her hair, brushing down her side. And all of a sudden it wasn’t funny and he was tipping his head forward, kissing her again, like a lover, not the delicate kiss she’d given him.
She grabbed the lapels of his waistcoat, drawing him near, until there was no space between them. Her hands were distressingly soft when they touched his face, sliding down between his chin and the collar of his shirt.
He stroked her hair and looked into her eyes. For once, there was no teasing in them; she was not playing. He’d thought the whole world was one unending game for Nina, chasing dragonflies and speaking her facts and attempting card tricks, but abruptly she’d grown serious and full of longing.
She was beautiful, her eyes brimming with intent. He pressed his face against her neck, his hands racing down her body, and he felt himself caught on the edge of something, as he had not been in a painfully long time.
The boom of thunder startled them both, making them jump, and the flash of lightning brought him back to his senses.
He was both mad and stupid.
Nina managed a tremulous smile and this sent him three steps back from her, though he ought to have put an ocean between them, the way he felt right that second.
She’d been, until that moment, an abstract concept, a bunch of jumbled lines that did not amount to a clean figure. She had been rendered flesh and blood, alive and supple.
Hector did not live the life of a monk. He understood desire. Butdesire was not passion and passion was not love. He might give himself to desire while keeping the vault of his passion and his love for Valérie intact. She was like a saint he venerated at her altar. There’d never been any space for another. But now he felt as though a thief had stolen into the vault, desecrating all the noble romantic dreams he’d built.
He’d allowed himself to feel passion for someone else.
This was a betrayal.
“That was not proper of me,” he told Nina. He did not recognize his own voice, raspy with dread.
“I did not mind,” she said.
“We should go.”
He went quickly down the stairs and did not bother to slow when she called his name. Outside, Nina managed to catch up with him, pulling at his arm.
It was raining hard and he welcomed the cold water sliding under the collar of his shirt because the rain nested in her hair like minuscule jewels, it crowned her in summer glory, and he dearly wanted that desperately lovely girl. Thank heavens then for the rain, which cooled his spirit.
“Hector, we must speak,” she told him.
He knew what she wanted to say, it was written clear on her face: she loved him. How stupid he had been, telling himself he was no cad yet being a cad all the same. He’d crossed the border he promised himself he would not cross with her, the shield of his polite distance disintegrating.
She loved him and it stung. Before, he could have neatly snapped his ties with her, stepped away, and let another fellow court her. She would have forgotten him in a fortnight. She was young.
Yet.
She loved him and he knew he’d done this, and he ought not to. He should have known better how easily the sentiments of a young woman could be swayed. He should have known she was not the experienced coquette who flutters her eyelashes at one fellow and another, nor the calculating rich merchant’s daughter who measures the weight of a man in gold. He should have known that she loved himalready.
He’d been selfish and ignored this truth. This more than anything dampened any ardor.
Nina tried to touch his face and he was forced to turn his head.
“I shall not use you in this way,” he said.
“What?”
She was confused, but he could not explain. Not then and not there. Perhaps later, once he’d managed to unravel his thoughts, he’d calmly sit down and speak his mind. Or not. Hector could not tell her about Valérie, for one. He might be able to make her understand that he was entirely unworthy of her and that she would be better off setting her sights on a good man, someone who was not a fool longing after a woman he could not have.
He should have left long ago, should have abandoned her at the foot of the stairs that time back in the city.
