“Good thing I didn’t want any more,” she grumbled.
He shook his head and glanced toward the window, a small sliver of the moon visible against the dark sky. “I thought you and your family cared about your reputation and all who rely on you to advance their standing. That’s certainly a breach of goyishe etiquette.” He laid the glass down with a thud and turned to her. “The rabbis are probably apoplectic.”
“Ha. If they saw, they’re pretending they didn’t, as it helps the greater good, and at least he made an attempt not to flaunt his flirtations in front of the community. And I promise, there were no gentile witnesses. I’ve performed in front of them since I was a child, and I’ve yet to drop a cue.” She slid her glove back on and worked the first button. “As I said before, while attraction is not the most important factor ideally, I’d like it to be present. After all, if I’m going to marry someone, shouldn’t I—I don’t know—not find his touch repulsive?” She sighed. Fifteen more to go.
“Do you find Weiss’s touch repulsive?” He folded his arms tight across his chest, the fabric straining against his muscles.
“No.” She shook her head to further affirm the answer. It was the truth. His touch was indeed not repulsive per se. Just not quite what she had envisioned, that was all. But really, few things in life were.
“But you didn’t like it?” He rounded the table and leaped so he was sitting atop it behind her, his legs hanging down, close enough to breathe down her neck. “Wouldn’t want him to do this?” His voice was soft, with a slight tremor, but he reached out and lightly stroked her neck with a single finger, in the exact same spot she’d touched back in the men’s smoking room.
Almost as if she’d willed him to do it. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as every part of her being rose to attention. Desire swelled in her.
Not good. Nor appropriate. Nor useful. She needed to save those feelings for her suitors. She turned back to her—what did he keeping calling himself?—henchman and gave her best impression of her grandmother at her most imperious.
“Are our chairs not good enough for you?” she asked.
He raised both shoulders but didn’t rise.
“And I didn’t say I didn’t like Weiss’s touch.” She picked at a button with her blunted, gloved fingers, guiding the slippery silk through the hole. “It was fine.” Something she could get used to, even. And maybe one day enjoy, which was frankly better than most of the scenarios she’d considered.
“So you have a well-heeled, well-connected liar whose touch is ‘fine’? A stunning recommendation as a husband.” Aaron’s sardonic chuckle vibrated into her.
“I’m a liar at times. Everyone is. And his lies were clever and useful, which bodes well for his negotiation prowess.” She poked at the next button.There we go—just come right through.
“But? I hear a ‘but.’” He leaned forward, close enough that she could almost feel his legs wrapping themselves around her hips. She sighed and turned to face him, halting her progress with the buttons. “But I wonder if he will prove too useful. If he will seek to manipulate me, instead of manipulatingwithme to our joint, familial advantage.”
“Ah.” He gave a slow nod. “Because one good turn does not deserve another?” He gave her the closest thing to a smile he’d offered all evening, and it felt like a victory, even more than her performance with the banker.
“He doesn’t need more power over me.” She grimaced.
“Is Weiss off your list, then?” But before she could answer, he crooked a finger at her. “Give me your arm. Otherwise, we’re going to be here all night. Someone will notice your absence, so that Pena will come looking, and if he finds us, well . . . I saw his fists.”
“Don’t you know there are more ways to assert control over a situation besides violence? And here I thought you had a good imagination.” She snickered before shaking her arm in frustration. “This is why I should’ve gone to the ladies’ salon. I’d have maids to assist with these sorts of things.” But he did make a point. And she was certainly adult enough to control whatever misdirected attraction her overtired body was directing at him.
Ah well, her grandmother would not be pleased, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
She laid her wrist in his hand. His finger brushed the inside, and she shivered despite the fire. Yet her face was hot, though she neither sweated nor felt those damn nerves like she had in the ballroom.
No, it was almost as if she was coming down with a fever but hadn’t quite gone under its spell.
“I’ll try to be up to their standards with my measly menial skills,” he said before lowering her arm to his lap. Now her hand shook too. And there was definite dizziness fuzzing her brain, especially when she tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “But you didn’t answer my question—is Weiss out of contention?”
She swallowed, averting her gaze so she could ground herself, fight whatever illness this was. “Not in the slightest. Besides, I have to know his secrets before making a final decision.”
“So if he has a good secret you can extort him with, you’ll take him?” He tugged her closer to him as he moved up her arm, expertly fastening each button, his tone cool and even against the rising heat in the room.
“Perhaps.” She breathed the word, forcing herself back into her head, back to her plan, back to picturing Weiss. “Honestly, he’s a solid choice. He’s not a fool, he’s ambitious, he’s reasonably agreeable to view, and he has enough charm and connections that he should be able to assist in not only maintaining but expanding the company, but hopefully allowing me to retain control since his family has a business of its own. Further, he’d make an excellent delegate and probably relish that opportunity enough to make that his focus, not controlling what is mine.”
Aaron chuckled. “You really aren’t romantic in any way, are you?” He gave her arm a pat as he finished, his hand lingering on her wrist. “Despite your quest for a handsome husband.”
“Under Jewish law, I’m owed physical pleasure as a wife, so it would be . . . goyishe for me to deny myself that,” she told him, stumbling only a touch over the Yiddish. “Romance is entirely different and unnecessary.” And to her utter embarrassment, she made a small whimpering noise as he rubbed her wrist, making a circling pattern right on the most delicate spot—the joint that connected to her hand. Yet somehow, she couldn’t quite pull away or stop staring, even as her cheeks burned. “Is that something you want?” she managed to ask.
“Yes.” He released her wrist and sprang down from the table. “It’s unfortunate.”
“What is?” she asked as he dusted his trousers.
“Having all the money in the world and still limiting your possibilities.” He straightened to his full height, as if to remind her that he was indeed quite a bit larger than she.
