Page 84 of Hawk & Sparrow

He kissed her again, and Vesper’s mind shattered into a thousand pieces. She realized that he was right, she did know what she wanted. She thought of all the places she suddenly wanted Maximilian’s hands, all the places where she’d never been touched. She wanted all of it, and she wanted it now. It scared her, but it thrilled her too. All her life, she’d kept a careful handle on every aspect of it, tight control. In this moment, she could think of nothing more exquisite than letting go. She didn’t want to think anymore, she wanted to feel. She wanted to know what it felt like to tangle her fingers in Maximilian’s thick curls, what would happen to this building sensation in the pit of her stomach if they kept going. She wanted to know what came next. Maximilian stopped kissing her, and pressed his forehead against hers a second time.

“Vesper,” he whispered. “I need to tell you something.”

Vesper jolted. He’d never called her by her first name before. She was always Evans, never Vesper. Something in Maximilian’s voice had changed. It was still ragged, low, but she thought she heard some trepidation behind it too. She was the one who pulled back this time. Maximilian was looking at her the way a dehydrated man might look at a cold glass of water. Maximilian was looking at her like she was some priceless gem he could never hope to afford. He was looking at her … like he cared for her.

That terrified her to her core.

“I’m sorry.” Vesper put her hands on the sorcerer’s chest, and gently pushed him back. “I got carried away. It’s late, and I should probably get some rest.”

Maximilian blinked, as though he’d broken free of a trance. To Vesper’s surprise, his cheeks reddened as he scooted back too.

“Right.” He stood and straightened his bed robe. “I think I got carried away too. You were right, too much apple cider. Forgive me.”

Vesper stood. “Good night, Mr. Kite.”

“Good night, Miss Evans.”

Vesper waited a beat, then turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could. She went straight to her bedroom, and crawled into the massive bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Blood was roaring in her ears, every inch of her skin was prickling.

She’d believed, all this time, that she and Maximilian were playing a game with mutually understood rules. Any romance between them was a part of that game, no more than a silly charade. But what had happened just then in the den? That hadn’t felt like a charade at all. Vesper touched two fingers to her mouth, and let herself linger on the way Maximilian’s lips had felt on hers for a few more seconds before she punched her pillow hard and turned on her side. She screwed her eyes shut, letting the remnants of the spiked cider still in her blood lull her to sleep.

It’s a game, she reminded herself as the world quieted. That’s all this has been, and that’s all it’ll be—a game.

She held on to that thought with a viselike grip until at last she fell into darkness.

TWENTY-SEVEN

SUNDAY, 20TH OF NOVEMBER—9:32 A.M.

Vesper awoke the next morning to a knock on her door.

It took her a moment to remember where she was, all that had happened the night before. For a moment, she expected to find Maximilian on the other side of the door, but when it opened, it was Mrs. Cauble who entered. She was holding a dress in her hands.

“Morning, Miss Evans.” The woman’s smile was bright, kind. “Your clothes have been dried, and I took the liberty of pressing them for you.”

“Thank you.”

The woman gave a small curtsy and smiled. “When you’re ready, breakfast is ready downstairs.”

By the time Vesper had dressed, the sun was out. The previous night she’d been too cold, wet, and exhausted to appreciate much of Kite Manor; in daylight, she found herself awed over and over again. Everything in the home seemed to gleam, from its marble floors, to the silk tapestries hung on the wall. She found Max sitting at the head of a particularly long table when she entered the dining room. He seemed to be deeply engrossed in his reading, and didn’t look up until one of the servants pulled her chair back to seat her on the opposite side of the table. He grinned.

“Miss Evans,” he said cheerfully. “I take it you slept well?”

He’s pretending as though nothing happened at all. Good. Vesper decided that she would do the same. “I did, thank you. I’m most refreshed.”

“Excellent.” Max set aside his book. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have an appetite, so I asked my chef to prepare a light breakfast for us.”

Vesper raised a brow. The “light” breakfast was made up of platefuls of poached eggs, buttered croissants, and a fruit assortment. It was enough to feed a family of four and still have leftovers.

“Please.” Max gestured to the table between them. “Enjoy.”

Vesper’s stomach growled. Only now did she remember that she hadn’t eaten a proper meal since the previous afternoon. As she stacked her plate with everything within reach, Max resumed his reading, but she thought she felt eyes on her as the servants watched. Her cheeks warmed. Did any of them know what happened in the den last night? Had any of them seen her running back up the stairs to her room? She chewed faster, not wanting to dwell on the thought.

“Bexley says the lockdown mandate has been lifted,” said Maximilian.

“Good, then I should get back to the Globe.” Vesper spoke around mouthfuls of food. “I’ve got plenty of work to do, and I need to review my notes from the investigation.”

“Of course,” said Max. “I’ll escort you.”