“Might help that case of half-mast you’ve been walking around with.”
He smiled a little more. “No one has died from that yet.”
“Come on,Lieblingwächter.Help me out, here.”
“I’m not sleeping with you if you’re too far gone. Tell you what, if you’re that wasted, I’ll cuddle you and fix you that way.”
She grinned.“Or you can roll me over and—”
“—and make sure you don’t aspirate your own vomit and get pneumonia. I’ve never liked piss-drunk women,Durchlauchtig.”
“Okay, fine. Point made. But maybe if I just loosen up a little—”
“That would be acceptable.” He held out his glass to toast.
Flicka clinked her glass against his, a toast to her impending drunkenness that would not get out of hand.
She knockedback a few more, joking with Dieter about their upcoming “date night.”
He sipped his whiskey, too, and he poured more into his glass. Flicka could see him holding it on his tongue for a few seconds before swallowing it down.
“I’m walking a fine line, here. I don’t want to pressure you if you’re not up to this, if whiskey isn’t the magic potion.” He leaned forward, resting his arm on the table,and his voice dropped. His eyes turned that smoky gray that made Flicka think of stolen moments in the London night. “But I miss you. I want to touch you. I want to feel you move under me.”
Flicka stared straight at him and knocked back another shot. One or two more, she figured, feeling how warm her stomach was, and she would be properly unthinking. Her body would take over, and her brain wouldshut the hell up. “Good.”
Dieter sipped his, and he watched her.
Flicka held her next shot and contemplated the inch of golden liquid swirling in the bottom of the juice glass. She said, “We never talked about what you said.”
Dieter shrugged, holding his glass steady while his broad shoulders moved. “I’ve said a lot of stupid things.”
“Was it stupid?” she asked.
“Depends on what it was.”
“That you loved me.” She stared at her next shot, contemplating it. “You said that you loved me when we lived in London.”
“Yes, I said that.”
“You never said it while we were there.”
He reached across the cafe-size table, pried her fingers off the cool glass, and held her hand in his large, warm one. He said, “Yes, I loved you then. Yes, I was happy every moment I was near you. Yes, I missedyou when we went our separate ways to university each day. Of course, I am in love with you now and every moment in between.”
Though his mouth curved up in the smallest of smiles, his eyes didn’t waver from hers.
Flicka nodded. “Okay.”
“There was something that happened in London,” he said. “It’s private. It’s personal. But that thing happened, and if I’d stayed with you in London, you wouldhave been in danger. Instead of protecting you, I would have put you in more danger. I didn’t want to leave.”
“You could have told me,” she said. “You didn’t have to walk out like that.”
“It was better that way,” he said.
She looked away from his eyes and stared into the whiskey in front of her. “It wasn’t better for me.”
Dieter sighed and released her hands. “You’re right.”
She looked up.“What?”
