It didn’t mean anything, however. Just another lesson. She couldn’t read more into it.

The kitchen door swung open as Alice kneaded dough for the dinner rolls. “Miss Lusk, a moment?” Kit asked.

Her stomach went flying once more, but she tried to keep her composure. “Opal, would you mind taking over the kneading? About five more minutes should do it.”

Opal came over and Alice shook out her arms as she walked out of the kitchen. Kneading bread was hard work. Kit was standing near the bar. “Yes?”

Without speaking, he took her hand and led her to the tiny office. When the door closed, he pushed her against the door, his long body caging her in. Dark eyes studied her face. “I cannot stand it. I am trying to stay out of your way but having you so close is driving me mad.”

She bit her lip. “You may come into the kitchen and help.”

“If I do, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. There’s something about you in a kitchen, in command and so dashed smart, that gets me hard.”

“Kit!”

“I can’t help it, Alice. Are you flattered or embarrassed?”

She wasn’t certain. “Both, I think, but I must return. I cannot leave Mrs. Henry and her children to do all the work. Incidentally, you are compensating them, I hope.”

“Of course. With money for all three and time off for Mrs. Henry next week. Kiss me, Alice.”

“We shouldn’t.” Though she wanted to. More than anything. “Later. When we’re finished.”

“I have a dinner tonight, so I’m leaving shortly.”

“Oh.” Her stomach deflated. He was taking someone out for dinner. Of course he was seeing other women, like the woman at the opera, so this shouldn’t surprise or bother her. Yet, it did.

“A friend, Alice.” He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face. His gaze was earnest, unflinching. “A male friend. Forrest Ripley. I’ve known him forever.”

“I assumed it was the woman from the opera.”

Stepping back, he dragged a hand through his dark hair. “No. I didn’t . . . that is, I am not seeing anyone.”

This made no sense. During the house party, she’d asked him not to, but they weren’t in Newport any longer. “Why?”

“Do you want me to?”

“It’s not up to me. I assumed you would return to your life once we were back in New York.”

“Alice, answer the question. Do you want me to?”

“I . . . don’t know.” A bit hypocritical of her to demand his attention when she’d gone driving with Lockwood yesterday afternoon. “I want you to be happy.”

Putting a hand on the door above her head, he leaned in. “I am happy. I’m especially happy when you let me drag you in here so that I may lick your pussy.”