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“I’d have started with that instead of worrying about word choice. That information certainly caught my attention.” He stroked the back of his neck, right under his collar, a glint in his eye.
“Are you mocking my writing?” She gasped a little, not at all imagining what his hand stroking would feel like on her bare thigh.
“I’d never mock you or your writing. Never. I’m not that sort of man.” His dark eyes turned hard. The humor vanished and the cold, judging aloofness returned to his features.
“Did I say something wrong?” She blinked. Why was he like this? Friendly one moment and angry the next? This couldn’t be about the past, could it? No, that wasn’t possible. She hadn’t been that important. “If I did, I certainly didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “All your mistakes are always innocent accidents.” The last part was under his breath but still audible.
“So this is how you plan to protect me? Insult me, confuse me, get me so dizzy I swoon so you can deposit me in Centerville like cargo? Fine. If that’s how you see me and your job, I’ll just be silent for the rest of the ride.” Her voice and body shook as she spoke.
“Really? Can you manage that? I mean you are Thad’s sister.” David’s voice was so calm. Ugh. If anyone deserved to be thrown from a cab...
“I can and I certainly will. I’ll not give you anything else to gossip with your partners about when we get back. The three of you can say what you want but at least I don’t pretend to be anything I’m not.” And her vision wavered. Curses. A million curses. He’d not see her cry. She stared back at the horse’s backside. Imagine what that smells like. Remember the stables at home.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He had her elbow now.
Which she used to jab him in the rib. He grunted but didn’t let go. The smug bastard was strong.
Fine. It hadn’t been the most accurate insult, but that wasn’t her aim. Not this time. Though she still needed to make sense. She grasped at threads for a cover. “Well, haven’t you been playacting for years?”
“What?” At least he let go. And placed a hand over his mouth.
She leaned forward. “You said so, at Passover.” It all rushed back.
I suppose I’m all American for the moment, fighting in your war, serving our little group. I’ve shaved my beard, cut my peyos, eat a variety of things that most certainly have at least touched swine. My own family wouldn’t recognize me. Might make a good surprise though.
A flicker of recognition, of memory danced in his irises. “I changed my appearance to blend, of course, but that’s just acclimating to a new country. Actually, some of that occurred before I even came here. Anyway, that’s not ‘pretending’ to be anything. I am what I am. I can’t be anything else. Unfortunately.” A ghost of a smile flashed on his face, as if he’d discovered a secret. “And you have a good memory.” Did he just wink at her?
Desire flared through her chest once more. How could one person drive her senses so wild? Control, she needed to regain some sort of control so she could breathe and think and sort everything out.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She gave her best sniffing impression of her mother and stuck her nose in the air.
“Yes, you do. You listened to me.” His hands shook a little and wonderment rang in his voice. “You cared enough to listen to me.”
“How could you ever think I didn’t listen to you? After all, you listened to me. You were the only one besides Simon who ever really did.” The memories danced through her senses. And all reason fled, along with all her qualms as the attraction edged out the annoyance and hurt once more.
Ignoring the driver—mere feet behind them on his perch, but what he couldn’t see couldn’t hurt him—she
grabbed the lapels of David’s jacket and stared up into his eyes, willing him to want her half as much as she wanted him. “Kiss me, David. Please. Like nothing happened. Like it’s then, not now.”
“Yes,” he whispered before taking her mouth in his again. “This is wrong. And inappropriate and not what I’m supposed to be doing here, but right now I don’t care.”
“Not wrong. Never wrong. Right.” She ran her fingers through his. He groaned and she tugged him closer to her. His hand slid under her bottom again, and her body throbbed. She kissed along his jaw. His growl vibrated against her chest and her nipples ached beneath her corset.
“Amalia.” The way he sighed her name made her nearly go mad with desire. She whimpered and pressed closer.
He bent down and trailed his lips down her neck and brushed her locket aside, traversing lower so his tongue flitted around the edge of her neckline. Fire. She was on fire, all the way down to her toes.
Whimpers became moans. Hers? His? Who could be sure?
“I want you.” She reveled in the coarse curls against her fingers. “I want all of you. I’ve al—”
The cab lurched to a stop. Amalia peeled herself off David and glanced from side to side and over the back of the damned horse.
Well, fiddlesticks. They’d made it over the bridge. People bustled about outside the train station, several giving the pair lingering glances.
She adjusted her hat. And collar. And jewelry. “I suppose we’re here.”
