“I suppose not,” Bishop admitted. “Not when it comes to you.”
“Yes, so I’ve noticed.”
He squeezed his legs against hers. “Do you wish to return home or perhaps meet your friend at another place?”
Her brows raised in intrigue, and some of the fury tapered off. “Where did you have in mind?”
“A tavern. Have you ever been to one?”
She pulled a face. “Filled with drunk, smelly men? No thank you.”
“This one isn’t.” He watched her closely as he spoke. “It’s run by awoman. Knox and I were there yesterday. Quiet, good food, no nonsense. It’s small and honest.”
“What if someone recognizes me?”
“The chances are almost zero.”
“Like meeting in the Lyon’s Den?”
She had him there. “Let’s not worry about that. If someone sees, they see. If they don’t, they don’t.”
“What about your plans with your uncle?” she pressed.
Bishop leaned forward. “If you have not realized yet, I don’t have much in the way of a plan. The method had always been simple: step back into the light.”
“But you haven’t,” she murmured.
Bishop shook his head. “I haven’t decided how, but that detail is becoming less and less important and only necessary that I do. Besides, my uncle knows. Would I have enjoyed playing with the mouse more? Certainly. But that’s not what’s important here.”
“I don’t know.” She smiled at him. “Seems pretty important to me.”
“You’re the most important, Alyssia.”
Her eyes widened.
“Don’t believe me?” he teased. He simply couldn’t help himself. “Even if you insist on a marriage of convenience for a lifetime, you’ll still be the most important presence in my life.”
His gaze followed as she scratched the tip of her nose. “I’m not sure if you’re serious or teasing.”
“Both.” He tipped closer, until their noses almost touched. He chuckled when she reared back until her head bumped against the back of the seat. “So, to tavern or not to tavern?”
“Tavern.”
Bishop’s grin widened, slow and utterly self-satisfied. “Excellent choice, princess.”
“Alyssia.”
“Liss.”
She rolled her eyes, though her lips curved faintly. “If you call me that in public, make sure I don’t have wine in my hand, or I shall pour it over your lap.”
He laughed. “Then I’ll consider it worth the stain.”
She snorted. “You would.”
Yes, yes he would.
Chapter Ten
