A thousand nefarious reasons for her behavior—from experimentation to securing his loyalty to extortion—flickered through his mind. But at the moment, none of them mattered. The recklessness that had been born of frustrations at his position, attheirpositions, combusted against his own attraction and desire in pure need.
“Well, madam, then I suggest we put our heads together and find a solution.” He lowered his head, locking eyes with her. Willing her to say yes, even if this was a terrible idea.
That delightful dimple deepened. “Like what?”
“Like kiss.” His heart pounded against his ribs.
“Please.” She breathed the word.
And finally, he obliged, bending to meet her, wrapping his arms around her soft, warm body as she molded to him, melting into him. Their lips met and hers opened, welcoming him, and he felt fire and ice and tasted spun sugar and oranges as lust lit his every nerve. In an instant, they were a mess of limbs and tongues and fireworks as she near climbed on top of his feet. And he didn’t care. There was no pain, only pleasure. Pleasure and need.
Moaning, she rubbed against him as he clutched her tighter, reveling in each breathy murmur. She clung to him, and for one brief moment, he believed anything and everything was possible.
“Aaron.” She whispered as she dipped to kiss his neck. “Aaron.”
God, his body responded with dizzying speed to just his name, and all the promise it seemed to hold when spoken from her lips.
But it was a promise she could not deliver.
Cold emptiness ran through him as he remembered their roles—she was to be the hero, saving her family business. And for that, she needed a prince. Which was certainly not him, not even in his wildest dreams.
He disentangled himself from her, ignoring how her cheeks flushed, her eyes moving from glazed to focused. As he stepped back, she coughed and stared at the floor, her blush turned to ash. With shaking hands, she slipped her bonnet back on her head and tied the ribbon. Tight.
“That was—um, I should—” She coughed again and straightened her shawl. “I need to return. There’s much to do.” She caught his eye, and Aaron planted his feet, steeling himself for the inevitable. Only when he didn’t answer, he thought he saw a quick flash of hurt before horror took over her expression.
But surely, he was wrong. Because that was the proper reaction, right? The only possible reaction.
Deep disgust. Which wasn’t like a stab in the gut. Aaron scowled and moved near his desk.
“Both on my end and on yours.” Isabelle sniffed, her eyes and voice now haughty. “Come to me before the week is out, as there is another festival you need to attend and lots of information to gather. And don’t forget Weiss.”
Before he could respond, she rushed out the door, her clacking feet echoing on the steps. Shaking his head, he stared after her. Oy. Just oy. This is what happened when a schlemiel made a bargain.
And now this schlemiel was going to need to find an excuse to see that arrogant putz Solomon Weiss. And be servile and fawning in his presence. Aaron ground his jaw. Time to practice his acting skills. And see which congregants had business with the Weiss brothers. Perhaps someone needed a letter delivered. Hopefully not in the rain.
But he wouldn’t count on it—not with his luck.
Isabelle sprinted out of the synagogue to the waiting carriage. Tears threatened behind her eyes as she permitted her coachman to assist her inside. Once seated, she buried her head in the crook of her arms, exerting as much pressure as she could to stop any inconvenient and unflattering emotion that had no place in her life.
“What’s wrong?” Rebecca’s voice startled her, even though she was the one who’d asked her friend to stay and wait until after she’d finished. “Or more, what happened?” The other woman had taken off her bonnet, and a book lay in her lap.
“I kissed him.” Her lips still tingled, and she could taste him on her tongue.
“Who?” Rebecca laid the book to the side, hands clasped in her lap.
“Aaron Ellenberg.” She sniffed his name. It was wrong—wrong in every way possible. Not the least of which because he’d been completely horrified and probably found it, and thus her—she swallowed—lacking. And she had never supposed herself to be lacking in anything.
“The custodian?” her friend asked, surprise notably absent in her voice as something like a smirk graced her lips.
“I wish you would stop referring to him that way. That is his job, but that’s not all he is.” She pinched the bridge of her nose as she shook her head.
“I thought you wanted to be known as the Surety Queen?” Her friend arched a brow. “For that to be your entire identity?”
“We decided on ‘Empress,’ and it’s a joke—at least partially—and an entirely other matter that is not here nor there.” Isabelle shook her head, her carefully shaped curls bouncing off the edges of her bonnet. “But yes, him. I kissed the man I’m paying to find information so I can extort the man I’m supposed to eventually kiss.” She pressed her fingers to her temples.
How had this happened? How did she lose control? It just wasn’t possible. She was too trained, too careful, too clever. And yet . . .
“You plan to kiss all your suitors?” Rebecca cocked her head, interrupting her thoughts. “I mean, it isn’t advised and not something of which the community would approve. Though in reality, it isn’t particularly uncommon, especially when it’s done discreetly.”
