“You’re the only one I trust to help me. You’re the only one I—” Could she be so bold? She had to be. If she wanted this to happen, she had to ask for it. “I want you to touch me. I want you to show mewhat’s possible. I can’t go on like this.”
He moved her hand to his heart, then to his mouth, and kissed her fingers.
“You don’t have to. I know what to do. I can keep you safe.”
“But is this something you want? You don’t have to if you don’t feel the same way.” Her voice was quiet.
He kissed her knuckles again, the feel of his mouth on her skin sent flutters to her lower belly. “What way is that? How do you feel about me?”
Felicity chewed her lip and shrugged one shoulder. She would not admit she was becoming infatuated with him. She knew it would complicate things. He might not risk helping her if he knew how she felt.
His lips curved into a smile when she didn’t respond. “Do you think I’m handsome?”
Felicity narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks flaming. “You know you are. Don’t pretend you don’t see the women who drool after you.”
“I don’t look for that sort of attention. You didn’t answer my question. Do you think I’m handsome?”
A flush of heat washed over her body, chasing away the last of the cold. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Did you like kissing me?”
Felicity swallowed and nodded. This man knew exactly what he was doing to her. But she loved it.
“I like kissing you, Flick. I think about our kiss every waking minute. I want to touch you. Iwantyou.”
She lost her breath. “Me? Truly?”
“I haven’t been interested in a woman while there has been so much worry weighing on me, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon leaves me little time to myself. But then you came along, with your frilly white cap and your shy glances. You reminded me that I’m still alive. I’m still...a man.” He turned on his side. “You’re beautiful in so many ways, from your eyes to your kind words, and your endless courage.”
“Courage? What courage?” Flick scoffed. Her heart would not slow its frantic beat after all he just said. Felicity wasn’t courageous enough to tell him how she felt.
“Courage doesn’t mean you aren’t afraid. It means that despite your fear, you keep going. You haven’t given up. You’re a fighter.” He raised a hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Are you sure about this? You should think about it—not because I don’t want to, but because what happened tonight has upset you. You should get some rest.”
Now that she was warm and safe, exhaustion did weigh on her. He was so good. Always anticipating her needs. She would not change her mind. She wanted him, too. Her desire sank through her body, settling low in her pelvis.
“Kiss me before you go?” she asked.
His eyes smoldered. He bent his head close, his lips brushing hers and sealing over them. Felicity melted into the kiss. She’d never felt so sure of her decision. This was right, even if it broke all the rules. He was what she needed to heal.
Chapter Eight
Tristan was awaymost of the day, seeing to some unsettled business with a lord who believed he didn’t need to pay his debts. By the time evening had settled in, he was rushing to clean up and meet Flick in the ladies’ gaming area. But when he got there, Milly delivered a note from Mrs. Dove-Lyon.
Miss Brandon is unwell this evening. She will not need your services.
Was Flick having second thoughts? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. Last night had been a terrible shock. Tristan had tried to find the man who had recognized her. After leaving Flick and recovering form that soul-searing kiss, he’d gone to the wolf pack, Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s cadre of former military brutes who acted as security for the club. Jasper Grange had been his name according to Titan, the leader of the wolf pack. He’d left shortly after his encounter with Flick. Tristan contacted one of his messengers and sent him to find Grange and if he couldn’t, to make his way toward Winter’s Well and see what the vicar and Chadwick Revere were up to.
Tristan considered going there himself and making them regret every evil word and action toward Flick, but he couldn’t get away from his duties at the Den, and he wouldn’t risk leaving Flick alone.
Tristan made his way toward Flick’s room, to see if she was all right or if she needed anything from him. He waited until the hall was clear and knocked gently on her door.
Her soft voice came through the door. “I’m resting.”
“I know,” Tristan said. “I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need.”
For a moment she didn’t answer, then he heard her steps, and her door opened a crack. “Tristan?”
He stepped closer. “Are you unwell?”
