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“You should.” He shook his head and pulled his chair closer. His eyes grew doleful. “Which is why we need to talk.”
“No.” Very much no. He was using a tone very similar to her mother’s whenever she was about to be left behind while her parents went off to England or Washington or wherever. She wagged a finger from her good hand at him. “We most certainly do not need to talk.”
“Again, you don’t know what we were going to talk about.” David rolled his eyes. “You always assume things.”
“No, I make judgments and prepare, based on evidence, which is kind of what you do in your job. Right now the evidence is telling me that there is nothing we should be talking about. Nothing good.” She shook the finger even harder. “You’re going to tell me that the kiss was a mistake and I’m not sure that my pride can take that.”
David pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Define ‘mistake.’”
Amalia’s chest burned. Why did she have to always be right? She placed her good hand on her hip and paused, parsing his words in her head. “A bad thing that you never want to do again.”
“No one ever said you weren’t quick with words.” He chuckled a little. “I’d certainly not call that kiss ‘bad.’”
Tingles shot through her body.
Yes.
So new David liked it...and her? Again. A small version of herself twirled inside her head, until the breath stopped in her lungs. There was a “but” in there.
“But, now is not the time for any of that. You were stabbed yesterday.” David removed his spectacles, revealing dark circles beneath his eyes. “I barely slept.” On closer inspection red lines streaked through the white of his puffed eyes. He tilted his chin. “Though it’s had positive effects. I’ve come up with a plan for switching trains in Hunterdon.”
“Congratulations.” She took another long sip of coffee, her mind racing for a counterargument that wouldn’t appear. Especially as there was something else in his voice and expression. He might be telling her it was about the job, but there was more. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t giving her the full truth.
Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who needed to do some investigating.
“You’re pouting.” David gave her a chagrined half smile.
“You bet I’m pouting. I’ve been threatened, stabbed, and someone attempted to give me plague. I should be terrified out of my wits, but instead all I can think about is the way you kissed me and kissed me and kissed me and how good it was. Until you stopped. And now you refuse to touch me again.” Steam might have come out of her ears in time to the train’s whistle.
It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t.
“And I’m wearing pink and black undergarments.” She slapped her hand—the one on the bad side, ow—over her mout
h.
Not what she intended to say. Not to him, not in the middle of this conversation.
David gasped, much louder than her, and she could’ve died on the spot. “I—”
She pressed her fingers over her eyes for a moment. “Not for you. For me, really, but your pleasant reaction would’ve been a bit of a boon. If it came to that. Not that it would, but in the abstract, a man, such as yourself, finding them attractive would be extra nice.”
“Just in the abstract?” David removed his spectacles for a moment and arched his brows.
“Yes?” She squeaked the word. Mercy, she was a coward.
Not that it mattered what she said because her cheeks were on fire and he was smirking at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He slid his spectacles back onto his nose. “You’re fun to tease.”
And the train car was suddenly full of sunshine again. Warm, beautiful sunshine. She leaned forward. “So, you want to—”
Another sigh. He leaned back, away from her. “‘Want’ isn’t the question. I told you, after this is over we can have this discussion. Figure out parameters, before we do anything rash.”
Ugh, maturity may have made her more aware but it certainly got in the way.
“Fine. Later. Like you said.” Amalia took a long sip of coffee and wagged a finger at David. “But, as I presume we are not only going to Hunterdon, but all the way to Bedford in an attempt to lose whomever is after me, I’ve decided that we are staying there for the night. At the hotel. Not just any hotel, the hotel. Bedford Springs. And using the spring water. Because my complexion needs it. Badly.”
