Nic gently pried her hand away. A glint of excitement shone in his eyes. His lips turned up into an eager grin. “I’m serious, gypsy, I have a plan. We can use Bones’s paranoia to take what we want right from under his nose. We can do this. Imagine if we took Bones out of the equation. We could have enough money to be one of them. We would own them. No one would ever dare to cross Lady A.”
A cold breeze blew in off the river, but Arista shivered for a different reason. She had always known that Nic had ambition—he’d risen in Bones’s ranks until he was the old man’s trusted right hand—but to hear him talk like that, say such things, only solidified what Arista feared. Nic would never give up this life. He loved bringing the rich to their knees, and he wanted Arista—no, Lady A—to help him. She tried to pull away, but he held her fingers in a tight grip. Almost too tight. Arista ground her teeth together and stopped fighting.
“Really, gypsy, what do you want the most? Anything. Don’t you want what they have? To go to a party as a real guest? To have a grand home? And carriages and dresses and people to take care of you? What about your freedom, gypsy? I know how you long for that.”
She shook her head in denial, but for just a second she had allowed herself to imagine it. The taste was bittersweet on her tongue, because it would never happen. Nic huffed and looked out at the water. “Why should Bones get everything, when we’re the ones doing the dirty work? We are exposed to the danger and yet we get nothing. It has to stop.”
If anyone heard what he’d implied…Panic licked at her skin like fire. She glanced around, wide-eyed, afraid someone might hear them.
The man on the boat seemed closer than before. Could he be in Bones’s employ?
“Nic.” She tugged desperately against his grip, but he held her firmly. The man in the boat drifted away again, intent on another spot in the water.
“We can do this, gypsy, together. I’ve been thinking about it for years, and Bones trusts me now. I’ve been talking with someone who can help us, too. It’s the perfect time.”
He actually wanted her to help him take over Bones’s operation.
“Don’t worry, gypsy, I’ll still keep you safe.” Nic ran his free hand up her arm and slid it behind her neck. Instead of the familiar heat of his touch, there was only dull, thumping discomfort. He urged her head closer, and she stared up into his eyes.
He was going to kiss her.
She’d wanted it for so long, and yet could not push away her unease. It was as if the kiss would seal a bargain she hadn’t yet agreed to. But when his lips brushed across her cheek, so soft that they barely touched her skin, she leaned in closer. This was what she wanted. Yet there was still hesitation in her movements.
Part of her uncertainty stemmed from inexperience. What if she did it wrong? Almost all her knowledge of what happened between men and women came from watching the girls at the docks. The rest came from the masquerades she attended as Lady A. Neither were exactly places of virtue.
Nic, on the other hand, had plenty of experience. He cradled her neck gently in his fingers while stroking his thumb over her jaw. The simple feeling of being touched like that, like she was finally wanted by someone, took her breath away. Arista closed her eyes and shushed the voices in her head. A gentle nudge was all it took to move her face toward Nic. All that stood between them now was a whisper.
When his lips finally pressed against hers, he was gentle and slow, and Arista found herself leaning closer, deepening the kiss. This was it. Finally, she was kissing Nic. Her Nic.
After several long moments, he pulled back with a sigh and cradled her face against his chest. “I promise I’ll give you the life that you deserve, gypsy.” He pressed another kiss against her temple and Arista leaned back in his arms to look up at him.
In the dim light, she studied his profile. A bump rose up in the middle of his nose from a fight many years ago. His jaw was square and hard and clenched in determination as he stared out across the river. Arista finally had proof that Nic cared for her, that she was more than just an obligation.
The kiss should have fixed everything she thought was wrong inside her. Pieces should have fallen into place. Damaged parts should now be miraculously fixed. Instead, the hollowness remained and it only added to her confusion.
What did this mean?
Was she so broken that nothing could heal her anymore?
Could she not feel anything?
Yes, she could feel something—had, in fact, earlier in the evening. Only it wasn’t her longtime friend, the boy she thought herself in love with, who made her body tingle with awareness. It wasn’t Nic’s promise that made her heart pound erratically as she sat in the darkness.
It was the memory of a dark-eyed stranger in a highwayman’s disguise that made her yearn for so much more than this life.