“Must be a language barrier.” Amalia’s innards fizzled once more because she couldn’t help herself, even if she shouldn’t. She crossed her ankles as tight as she could but didn’t dare withdraw from him.

“I’ll let you and Thad think that.” He rubbed the area between her thumb and forefinger through her glove, his eyes locked on hers. “Anyway, the way your entire face lit when you told it to me, how proud you were of it and how you directed all of that towards me, a nothing... I’d sail on a thousand ships, march through a million fields of mosquitoes, face down hordes of cannon fire to see that again. Except...”

“What?” The lump was back.

David tugged at his hair, before frowning a little at her. “Well, I only sort of knew you then. We were young and still forming.”

“And now?” Because she had to ask, despite the danger.

“Now?” A smile flicked on his lips and his eyes twinkled in the dim light. “Let’s just say, as pretty and sweet and adventurous and funny as you were as a teenager, that version of you doesn’t hold a candle to you now—the woman who learns from her mistakes—who keeps climbing and thriving and doing things no one else has ever done. And who cares about other people, her readers, her families, the causes she champions. Who even while being threatened, finds the time to secure a donation for those who need help...”

He laid both palms flat on the table and turned them over, his eyes locking with hers. “I was smitten with young Amalia, but there’s no one I’d rather share dinner with than you, as you are now.”

Damn it all. She should confess, or more, apologize. Tell him she’d lied and explain why, but those words wouldn’t form. Because then they’d be at an impasse, or more he’d confirm that her feelings wouldn’t matter, he could only give what he could give. And it wouldn’t be enough. And she’d break.

She was going to, eventually. But right now, in the candlelight, it somehow didn’t matter.

“Let’s not call Meg,” she whispered. “Come upstairs with me.” She near moaned

the words. “Please, David, now. Don’t make me any promises, we’ll not make any plans. We’ll just be together, as we are now.”

In the most languid way possible he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it once more. She sighed as her chest heaved towards him of its own accord.

“As we are now,” he whispered.

Chapter Fourteen

Amalia said very little on their way up the grand oak staircase and through the yellow gingham wallpapered hall to the room. Not that he made any attempt at pleasantries either. Was he nervous or excited or something else altogether?

Passing a gilt framed mirror, she caught her own reflection and her cheeks tinged pink without the assistance of rouge, or in her case, alkanet stain—much more natural and better for the skin. Something deep within her chest twisted as memories from the first day she met David flooded back.

The unkempt hair and rumpled clothes and the beard—the damned full beard—not what anyone in her circle wore. Not fashionable, but somehow still alluring. Perhaps a bit dangerous.

Even then he’d captivated her. The boyish confidence, the swagger, despite everything else, as if he held all the secrets she should’ve known but never heard.

“Are you all right?” David, now a few feet ahead, turned back to stare, large arms folded across his chest. She blinked up at his stubbled, handsome face.

She should stick to fulfillment she could control. Her column and her charity, which needed her. David was right about that. And that would be her priority. And it would be enough.

Later.

“Amalia?” David approached her, his eyes soft and brimming with concern.

She forced her lips to move even as her mind still churned. “I was noticing that I look a bit...”

“Tired?” He swiped an imaginary lock of hair off his forehead and narrowed his eyes.

“You know that’s not a compliment.” She folded her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, though made a mental note to apply more almond cream later—beauty was effort and determination after all.

He tipped up the corners of his lips. “It applies to me though. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll make the first train and be able to return to Wilmington by late tomorrow night.”

“Safe and sound and in my family’s care.” And you’ll go away. Again.

David glanced at the carpet and made a circle with his toe. “Yes, though, I’ll provide support until the other agents apprehend the culprit. Besides, your brother invited me to a bris, so I’ll be around at least for a few more days to welcome the newest Truitt into the community.”

The tips of Amalia’s fingers tingled. Well, then, they’d better get themselves to Centerville posthaste. “It’s only three days to the bris.”

“Well, there you go. Three more days. At least.” His smile widened a little and her heart pattered.