But it would not change the threat to Pippa.
And he would not have it.
“I shouldn’t take you inside,” he replied, the words lingering between them.
“You promised.”
“I lied.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care for liars.”
She was teasing him. He heard the soft laughter in the words. But whether there or not, he also heard the truth in them. And he wanted her to care for him.
The thought came like a blow, and he straightened instantly, suddenly eager to be away from her.
It was not her.
It couldn’t be.
It was the special circumstance of her. It was that she was the first woman he’d allowed this close, this frequently, in six years. It was that she smelled of light and spring, and that her skin was impossibly soft, and the way her pretty pink lips curved when she smiled, and that she was smart and strange and everything that he’d missed about women.
It was not her.
It was everything. With Knight and Lavinia and the rest of his world crashing down around him, the last thing he needed was Pippa Marbury in his club. In his life. Causing trouble. Taking over his thoughts.
The madness would go away the moment he was rid of her.
He had to be rid of her. Tonight.
He ignored the thread of irritation that coursed through him at the thought and rapped on the steel door.
“That’s a different rhythm than the one the ladies used.”
Of course, she would notice that. She noticed everything, with her great blue eyes.
“I am not the ladies.” He heard the terseness in his tone, refused to regret it as the door opened.
She did not seem to notice it. “Everyone has a different knock?” She followed him into the entryway, where Asriel sat in his usual place, reading by the dim light of a wall sconce.
The doorman cast his black gaze over first Cross, then Pippa. “She’s not a member.”
“She’s with me,” Cross said.
“A member of what?” Pippa asked.
Asriel returned to his book, ignoring them both. Pippa tilted to see the book in Asriel’s hand. Her head snapped up, eyes meeting his in disbelief. “Pride and Prejudice?”
He snapped the book shut and looked at Cross. “She’s still not a member.”
Cross cut him a look. “We are lucky, then, that I am an owner.”
Asriel seemed not to care much either way.
Pippa, however, appeared not to be able to help herself. “Perhaps we should start again? We were not properly introduced. I am—”
Asriel cut her off. “Cross.”
“I confess, I am happy to see that she is just as maddening for others as she is for me.” He paused. “Vallombrosa?”
If Asriel thought anything of the request, he did not show it. “Empty. Everyone is at the fight. If you don’t want her seen without a mask, I would stay clear of it.”
As though Cross would not have thought of that himself.
“That’s the second time someone has mentioned a fight,” Pippa interjected. “What does that mean?”
Asriel was quiet for a long moment. “It means there is a fight.”
Her brows rose. “You are not the most forthcoming of gentlemen, are you?”
“No.”
“You’re ruining my fun,” she said.
“That is not uncommon.”
Cross resisted the urge to laugh. Pippa would not be the first to attempt to engage Asriel in conversation, and he was willing to wager that she also would not be the first to succeed.
She tried, nonetheless, with a wide, friendly smile. “I do hope we shall meet again. Perhaps we could have a reading club of sorts. I’ve read that one.” She leaned in. “Have you reached the part where Mr. Darcy proposes?”
Asriel narrowed his gaze on Cross. “She did that on purpose.”
Pippa shook her head. “Oh, I did not ruin it. Elizabeth refuses.” She paused. “I suppose I did ruin that. Apologies.”
“I find I like your sister much more.”
Pippa nodded, all seriousness. “That is not uncommon.”
At the repetition of Asriel’s words, Cross did laugh, and when he tried to hold it back, it came out in a strangled mess—one Asriel correctly identified with a scowl. Cross took his cue, pushing aside the heavy velvet curtain and taking care that they would not be seen before leading Pippa down the long, narrow passageway to Vallombrosa, one of a handful of hazard rooms on the ladies’ side of the club.