Wicked Becomes You(30)

“That would be the larger size,” Alex said mildly.

“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I ordered it. Only a brother would mention that,” she added.

“A brother would also carry you back to the hotel when you passed out, but you may rest easy on that count: I won’t bother.”

She smiled despite herself. Alex was the only man she’d ever known who seemed to positively invite one’s rudeness. Before, this had always unnerved her about him; the obligation had been upon her to ignore his provocations. But now, for the first time, she could answer with equal flippancy, and the effect was strangely heady, more intoxicating even than the wine had been. “I have a good head, you know.”

“Yes, I hear you once drank two whole glasses of the stuff.”

“And I’ve heard that sarcasm is no substitute for cleverness.”

“Have you heard this? Kidnapped heiresses are not just the stuff of novels.”

“Kidnapped?” A laugh escaped her. “Wouldn’t that be a lovely piece of irony! Abandoned by two men, and kidnapped by a third!”

He paused. “You shouldn’t be out on your own,” he said in a different, more serious tone. “That’s all I mean. The world is not so kind as it looks in Mayfair.”

“Does it look kind in Mayfair?” she asked blandly. “Perhaps I had a bad view, last week, when I found myself standing alone at the altar.”

“I’m not speaking of wounded feelings,” he said quietly. “Things do happen. You need only think on your brother to realize that.”

She glanced up at him, startled. He held her look, but his very impassivity betrayed an awareness of the moment’s significance. They had never spoken of Richard’s death. All the details about it had come through the twins.

She wanted to be flippant again, to turn the mood back into banter. But instead she found herself saying, “I miss him.”

“Yes,” he said at length. “So do I.”

The sobriety of his reply further dampened her spirits. Richard had been dear to him as well.

It was Alex who had returned the ring to her.

She had felt so grateful to him for it that day. Even amidst all the other mad, grieving ideas that had raced through her head, she had still wanted to hug him, to cry onto his shoulder, for the favor of returning the ring.

“I can’t believe I gave it away,” she whispered.

He shrugged. Apparently he did not even need to ask what she meant. “You thought to wed the man, Gwen.”

There was no censure in his tone. And Elma and the twins had said the same. But perhaps that was the worst part: she had felt justified in giving Thomas the ring.

How willingly she had deluded herself! She’d not even had the courage to recognize her own hypocrisy. Thinking on it turned her stomach now. It was like that childhood game, in which one whirled in circles, round and round, until one managed to convince oneself that the sky and earth had switched places and the horizon was so close that one could touch it. But when one came to a stop, the world caught up and everything slammed into place, stolid and unchanged. Everything returned to the way it had been. Nothing new at all. And the nausea in one’s stomach was born half of wonder, half of fear: How did I convince myself, even for a moment, that things were different? I knew the truth all the time.

Her order arrived, jarring her from her thoughts. The beer foam presented her with a bit of a dilemma. She decided to plow through it, and ended up wiping suds from her nose.

Alex was smiling faintly. “Oui?”

“Oui,” she said, because she liked the smile, and the fact that he was not chiding her. It tasted like rotgut, though.

He spoke slowly. “I sense that you’re on somewhat of a larger mission, here in Paris.”

She gave him a bland smile. “I do intend to try new things, if that’s what you mean. Life is too short to spend simply behaving oneself, don’t you think?” On a laugh, she added, “But perhaps you’ve never tried that, Alex. Maybe you should be my example.”

He propped his elbow on the table and cupped his chin in his hand. “I would advise you to look elsewhere, for I can lead you nowhere good.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to go anywhere good.”

His smile slipped into something more contemplative. “But the only place I’d have a use for you is in bed.”

She froze, glass pressed to her mouth. Surely he didn’t mean . . .

“Oh, you have it right,” he said. “I mean that in a purely sexual way. Nothing brotherly about it.”

The word registered like a physical shock. She put her glass down hastily lest she drop it, then cast a panicked glance around. Nobody looked to be eavesdropping.