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For some reason, the sight of a trim-figured woman with light brown hair holding her little girl’s hand as they crossed the street had set his heart humming with some strange new tune.
A wordless longing for something.
For Alice.
For her body and nothing more,he told himself.
“She’s making changes, Lear. There are flowers blooming on every table. She wants us to eat vegetables. Even cooked the duke a chicken soup.”
Lear chuckled. “The nerve of that woman. Invite me for supper and I’ll eat your vegetables if you don’t want them. Haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in years.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s very curious. She’d ask you twenty questions about who you are and how you know me and what we do together all day.”
Nick didn’t want Alice knowing anything about his more dangerous pursuits. And Lear was thoroughly implicated in those.
“I understand,” Lear said. “You’re keeping too many secrets.”
“Exactly.” Nick stared out the carriage window at the buildings full of ordinary people living quiet, ordinary lives. “I’m keeping too many secrets.”
She had somehow wrested control away from him. Infected his mind with this need for closeness, intimate conversation, feelings.
And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it because he was going to go mad and hurt her and then she would leave him, as his mother had left his father, and... oh hell. How had it come to this?
He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
What happened to wed her, bed her, be rid of her?
Surely, after they made love this growing obsession would evaporate, like spilled whiskey.
She could share his bed, slake her curiosity on his body, but that’s where it ended.
This obsession ended tonight.
