“Sure.” His fingers tangled with hers, and she wasn’t certain which of them had reached out first. “You looked beautiful tonight, Yetta.”
A breath of a laugh eased past her tight throat. The familiar compliment brought no pleasure, just another wave of shame. “I meant to. Probably just to slap at Dev, and it didn’t…it didn’t occur to me that it would hinder your work here. He’s going to be angry, and I’m sorry. I’ve made things more difficult for you when I wanted to be a help.”
His thumb stroked over her knuckles and tied her in knots. “I’m not worried. You have him wrapped around your finger, and I know how to play my hand.”
Wonderful. He wasn’t worried because he recognized her as what she was—a professional coquette. Tears burned at her own weakness. Even now she would rather curl into his chest than stand on her own feet and face what she had done, what she was.
“Hey, now. What’s this?” His fingertips brushed her cheek, making her aware that her tears hadn’t just burned; they had slipped through her guard.
For a long moment she could only squeeze her eyes shut and struggle with all her might to keep her breathing even. Once she felt marginally under control, she shook her head. “I’m no good at being good.”
His laugh was a low rumble, somehow soothing. “Ah, Yetta. In some ways we are so much alike.”
A wobbly smile stole onto her lips. “In all the ways we shouldn’t be.”
He wiped away another tear. “Don’t cry. I don’t have another spare handkerchief to lend you.”
How could he make her laugh now? More, why did the laughter have to catch and make the burn behind her eyes worse? “I should give that back to you.”
Her tone must not have sounded very promising. His hand cupped her cheek. “But?”
“But I don’t intend to. And I don’t know why.” She risked a lift of her eyes and found his face close, intent. And oh so alluring. “That’s terrifying.”
“I know.” In the lamplight, low and golden, his black eyes gleamed like onyx. They stayed locked on hers for a long moment, long enough that she nearly wished for the familiar snap of the wolf within them. At least then she knew how to respond, knew how to keep her distance. But the way he looked at her now…it wasn’t like the looks she was used to. It was softer, almost mournful. When his gaze fell to her lips, she felt the familiar pull in her chest, but it lacked the edge she expected.
The breath he drew in shuddered. “Yetta.” His voice was a mere exhale, lower even than a murmur. He rested his forehead against hers. “I want to kiss you.”
“I know.” Her fingers tightened around his of their own volition, and her free hand settled on his chest. “I would let you.”
“I know.” He pulled away and caught her gaze again. His eyes looked as pained as hers must have earlier. “I’m not going to.”
Of course not. He had said just two days ago he wouldn’t again, and he’d obviously meant it. “Smart.”
“Yeah.” He lifted their joined hands, turned them, and pressed his lips to her knuckles. When he had first done that nearly two weeks ago, it had healed something inside her. Tonight it broke her to pieces. “We’re neither of us naive, Yetta. We both know it’s just…wanting.”
The pieces broke to pieces. “Mm-hmm.”
“Fact is, when all this is over, you’ll probably go through a rocky spell. But you’re smart and have a solid family, so you’ll know how to handle it. In another year or so, I’ll pick up the paper and see an announcement that you’re marrying some wealthy politician or businessman.”
The fractured pieces dug in like splinters. He was ending his courtship before he even started one. “Is that how it will be?”
“Yeah. You’ll forget my name in a few years. I’ll just be that reformed gambler, the two-bit detective who helped ruin your life.”
She might have laughed, if she weren’t afraid it would come out a sob. “Right.” She would forget.
His fingers traced the contour of her cheek. Funny. As much as his words sounded like one, his touch didn’t feel like a goodbye. “Pinkerton will send me north again, I bet. New York or Chicago. Maybe Boston.”
She strove to match his tone, easy if a touch regretful. “Where you’ll bravely chase down criminals and right society’s wrongs.”
“Yeah.” He twisted one of her curls around his finger. “Just another adventure. I’ll look back on this one and…” He swallowed, gripping her hand tighter still. Amusement snapped to life in his eyes. “And wish I had kissed you again tonight.”
Marietta smiled because her lips insisted on it. Then, because her heart couldn’t handle any more and her head thumped anew in protest of that pain, she backed away. “I had better let you get home.” Maybe she meant tonight. Maybe she meant forever. Maybe she just wanted to mean it at all.