“Again?” he asked, arching a brow.
“Trust me, you do not want to know—just likeIhave no desire to know anything about you,” she said, brushing the question off with a flick of her hand. “Besides, I’ve learned to control things since.” She twisted the end of her braid around her fingers. “Or at least thought I had.”
“I’m sure your reasoning was sound,” he offered, not knowing quite what else to say. An alarming development, especially since, unlike the people in his life with better judgment, he wasn’t quite sure he cared if there even was a reason.
Meshuggeneh.That was what he was. Maybe the bump he received from avoiding a runaway carriage when leaving Penrose’s was more serious than he’d believed.
“It was because of your sister, wasn’t it,” he stated more than asked, recalling her protective stance when the younger woman had entered the storeroom. She didn’t meet his gaze, signaling that he was correct—that whatever had happened, it had to do with defending her sister. And he liked her all the more for it. He cleared his throat. “I understand. I have a brother, who has always protected me, at great personal cost. I know a good sibling when I see one.”
“Mr. Weiss—” she started, her body language clearly indicating she was ready to flee. He searched his brain for some way to make her stay, even though heshouldn’t. Even if nothing he was doing made any sense in all his plans and schemes. He patted around in his jacket and his hand fell on the salve, the one for his own bruises. He fished it out, the glass of the bottle shimmering beneath the night sky. He pulled off the cap.
“You need this,” he said, taking a step toward her.
“What is that?” she asked.
“Salve,” he said, shaking the bottle in the light. “To help you heal.” He dipped a finger in and held it up to her. “May I?”
She bit her lip but didn’t retreat. “You’re going to noodge me until I say yes, aren’t you?”
He grinned at her. “You said you didn’t want to know anything about me, but you seem to have acquired quite a bit of knowledge.”
“You make yourself rather easy to learn,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, before reaching out and brushing his fingers over her cheek.
The breath Hannah sucked in seemed to echo between them.
Sol froze. “Does it hurt?” It never hurt him.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. She closed her eyes. “Just keep going.”
His heart beat in his ears as this time, the tip of his fingers softly brushed against her neck. Her lashes fluttered and his throat grew tight, but he didn’t stop until he’d covered every bruised inch, and she was still standing there, before him, beneath the night sky.
“There we go,” he whispered. He lifted her shawl back on her shoulders, retying it. Swallowing, he placed the cap back on the bottle and stuck it once again into his pocket.
“Why are you here, Mr. Weiss?” she asked as she finally opened her eyes again, her lips pursing into a pout. “Don’t you have a nice bed and a warm fire and adulation from your peers to dream of?”
“I do.” He nodded. “Yet none of them seem to be holding my attention as of late.” He moved even closer, so close he could take her in his arms. “Do you know what is?” he asked as he halted, mere inches from her.
Hannah shook her head. “Don’t,” she said as she placed a finger to his lips.
But the moment his lips met her flesh, all reason fled. His fingers captured her wrist. He brought it to his mouth, kissing the soft skin in earnest. She moaned but didn’t pull away. “This isn’t a good idea for either of us. This isn’t what either of us need.”
“I know,” he whispered as he pulled her close, wrapping her arm around his neck. She pressed her body against his, and like before, it was as if everything in the world had righted itself, even if it was all so terribly wrong.
“Weiss,” she breathed, just before he took her mouth in his. She opened for him like before, and it was everything. Her fingers threaded in his hair, and he groaned as his tongue mingled with hers, deepening the kiss, while he near melted into an endless pool of need. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her body on his, the sensations so glorious, time nearly stopped.
“I can’t seem to keep away,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead against hers.
“Try harder,” she snapped, pushing herself off him.
Before he could say anything else, she ran into the building, leaving him alone in the alley, the sun starting to light the way eastward, the opposite of where hebelonged, even if he suspected that, try as he might to resist, he’d return.
The staff was already rushing around the kitchen, and had already tended his fires, when Sol snuck back into the house. Oy. Now he was late and his brother would be irritated with him and for what?
A woman he needed to forget, no matter how fascinating he found her.
With a sigh, he touched up his shave, with only a few nicks, before splashing a bit more water on his face to calm himself down. As the clock chimed, he threw on a jacket, buttoning it as he trotted down the stairs and into the dining room, where his brother was already eating his morning meal and looking over the gentile scandal sheets.
