“Yes, because your grandmother would pitch a fit and probably cost me my actual job. Not to mention you are searching for a husband who isn’t me. Not because the kiss wasn’t good.” He drew closer to her again, so close this time that her gown billowed against his legs. He didn’t touch her, though, just stared down at her, disbelief etched into his features.
“You thought it was good?” Her voice squeaked. She cleared her throat, fighting to regain her dignity. Even if the question was inappropriate and unnecessary and—
“You know it was good.” A sly grin broke out on his face. “Very good.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But that’s not the point.” And the grin became a stiff line as he took a step back. “Because it shouldn’t happen again.”
“Why not?” She marched forward so they were toe to toe once more, hands on her hips. “I mean, I’m not sure one way or the other, but I’d like your opinion.”
“You listen to opinions other than your own?” He sniffed, but at least he didn’t run.
She straightened her spine. “A true leader understands that she’s only as good as those with whom she surrounds herself, and even if she surrounds herself with the brightest of advisors, if she is too arrogant to take their advice, she’ll surely fall.” That was how many a budding empire died, after all. Mistakes she would not make.
“And you consider my advice sound?” He gave her another skeptical gaze.
“Well, my knowledge of kisses is most likely rather limited compared to yours, but what you’ve shown me so far was . . .” She bit her lip as a heat rose not only in her cheeks but throughout her body, her breath hitching. “Anyway, yes.” She pursed her lips. “For goodness’ sake, Aaron, you aren’t a fool. You might not have a head for Talmud or trade, but I still trust your opinion.”
“You shouldn’t. I could have my own motivations.” His voice went singsong, but he didn’t move away. Instead, his fingers twitched, near, so very near.
“Your motivations are to have a more respectable career, a better living arrangement, and a chance at a wife of your own.”One who is not me.She gritted her teeth as if the vehemence in her thoughts could convince her skin to stop tingling—or force this unneeded attraction to dissipate. “Which you will receive means to after the last festival.”
“You shouldn’t guarantee delivery of full payment when you haven’t received all the goods and the job isn’t done. As for the rest, you have no idea.” His tongue darted across his lips and she shivered, anticipation moving down her body. “And that’s why we shouldn’t engage anymore.” He shook his head. “You’re looking for a husband, and I don’t think he would take kindly to us kissing.”
“There is no ‘he.’ I’m considering Weiss, but there are still plenty more options and I’m not yet betrothed to anyone, let alone married.” She blew out a long, frustrated stream of air. Honestly. She knew her argument was nonsensical, but what else could she say when to agree was to stop this? He needed to stop flitting back and forth between flirting and pushing her away. So much hot and cold together was going to force her to combust.
“But you will be. Soon.” Aaron frowned as he held up a single finger for one long moment, his eyes looking back at the statue, before he collapsed his hand into a fist, then opened his palm.
Her heart leaped into her throat, but she didn’t move. Everything in her yearned and wished for what she couldn’t have and shouldn’t want. But she craved him. Or at least his kisses. Again. And again.
God, fighting this was harder than she’d anticipated.
She searched for her control.
“And so, the issue is what? That you don’t think I have the will to stop after I choose?” she finally managed to ask.
He gave an incredulous laugh. “Do you think I do?” Aaron stepped away from her, hands clasped firmly behind his back.
“Yes. Yes, Mr. Ellenberg, I do.” A lump rose, almost cutting off her air, as she remembered Rebecca’s words. “However, if you never want to engage again, I understand, completely. There are dynamics that are uncomfortable, given that I’m paying you for information, and we don’t want to get things muddled and—” She stuck her chin in the air with as much dignity as possible, stepping back so she could rush into the house before her voice cracked, or worse. “Thank you for the news on Mr. Weiss. You went above and beyond. As for the next festival, there shall be garments outside the servants’ entrance. You’re going to play part of the musicians’ staff. Wear a large hat or cloak. Not as much access to guests, but hopefully enough. In the meantime—”
And her words were lost as he took two swift steps forward, cupping her chin, bringing her lips to his once more. With a moan, she opened her mouth and was lost again, pressing her aching nipples against his torso, thin fabric against thin fabric, his tongue mingling with hers. Whiskey and rain, and everything rich and dark and secret and powerful.
And she wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted more. What did his skin taste like? What would it feel like if there were no barriers between them? What would it be like if she rubbed against him even more?
But all too soon he stepped back, his eyes wild in the moonlight, lips swollen, hair mussed from her fingers, gazing at her with something very different than horror, something wilder. Something that should scare her but instead excited her.
She blinked at him. “Oh my.”
“Are you still sure either of us can stop?” He panted a little but held fast to her waist.
“We’re intelligent adults.” The words were a bit of a whine as her hips bucked toward him of their own accord.
“Are we now?” he whispered as he pressed one hand into the small of her back while he fiddled with the buttons at the collar of her nightdress with the other.
“We are,” she insisted, clinging to him, because she was not going to miss this for the world. “Which is why you should most certainly continue.” She couldn’t help adding, “Please.”
He grinned before bending forward to kiss her neck, exactly how she’d demonstrated, his teeth grazing along her skin, as she dug her nails into his shoulders, trying desperately not to moan, lest he stop. Her nipples tightened beneath her gown as a thousand delicious sensations coursed through her body.
More. She needed more. Of this and him. Even if it was temporary.
“How about now?” he asked, returning to the buttons, flicking them open, one, two, three, four, exposing a great swath of skin she desperately wanted him to touch. “Do you still have all your wits?”
