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“And you prefer those other things?” she asked.
Stars. She really was going to not only tread but wallow in that territory, wasn’t she? He ran his tongue over his teeth.
“Preferences change with the partner and circumstance.” There—vague. Vague was safe.
The pendant she wore rose and fell as she breathed, a ship on a gentle tide. Mesmerizing. Enough that he could focus on the vision in front of him, instead of her words. Because it was what she said, not her body, that made him feel, or more...want.
“And despite it not being a compulsion, you vary your partners and circumstances frequently?” she asked. Too bad they didn’t permit women to be lawyers, she’d have ruled courtrooms.
His pulse sped. What exactly was this about? She was after something—something dangerous that couldn’t be good for either of them. He’d have to answer, with as much honesty as possible. She was a quick study with tells. Who knew how many of his she already knew?
“It’s actually been a while. Before I met you at the party, it’d been quite a few weeks.” A hundred and six, but who was counting?
Ursula snorted. “You poor dear.”
He burst into laughter. She was terrible—terrible and wonderful. But, a terrier halfway underground. Someone needed to grab her tail.
She leaned forward when he stopped and placed a hand over his. He trembled. He couldn’t help it.
What torture did she have designed for him?
“Urs.”
Her name was more of a growl than a word. He searched her eyes. Blue and clear and focused on him and his answer. She was young, so young, in so many ways, and he was the opposite of what she needed.
Jay placed two fingers on his temple. A headache was coming. Just his luck.
“You’re a busybody. I’m permitted to have some privacy, some secrets.”
She folded her arms and sighed. “Well, I’m not sure if you realized this, but before the other night, I had done nothing but kiss Hugo Middleton twice.”
“I’m so surprised I’m barely standing.”
Ursula’s face colored and liquid swirled in those damned eyes. Bloody Hell.
“That isn’t funny.” Her voice hitched.
She was going to break him into a million pieces which could never be put back together again. He wouldn’t even need the pipe and the tablets to die.
“Urs, you’re a nice girl from a proper family.”
And clever enough not to be led astray, or at least lucky enough. He grimaced. Her position, her status, even with the money—the papers, he’d make damn sure her name was never mentioned in the papers, not linked to his. That was the least he could do for her.
“So nice girls don’t do that?”
Urs was pouting. She was pouting about that of all things. Hugo was a fool. If the man had any sense at all he’d run off with her.
A sourness spread through his stomach. Jay clenched his fists. It didn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, and it was never going to happen because Hugo was a blind dunce.
“Nice girls do plenty of things. But ones from proper families are usually sheltered enough to wait until they are ready. Hopefully, only when they understand the consequences and know how to protect themselves.” Jay reached out and tugged a soft curl, pulling it back and letting it bounce. “I think you know that though. I also think you enjoy arguing too much.”
Her nostrils flared, but she licked her lips and, of all things, winked at him.
Death, a slow agonizing death.
“I’m just attempting to follow the logic,” she said.
“You know it’s complicated. Society is fraught. That’s why discretion and care are important, for both parties, which is why you don’t need to know any of the names from the past.”
