He didn’t bother going up the stairs. Instead, he went straight outside, desperate for air. For space. For distance. From Alice, from the other guests. From himself, even.

Perhaps a dip in the cold Atlantic was exactly what he needed.

“And where are you going in such a hurry?”

Kit came to an abrupt halt and found the source of the familiar deep voice on the terrace above him. Harrison was leaning over the balustrade, a lit cigar in his fingers. Kit dragged a hand through his hair. “I feel as if I am losing my fucking mind.”

“Yes, I am having a similar night. Drink?” Harrison held up a half-empty bottle.

“God, yes.” Taking the steps two at a time, Kit soon found himself on the terrace. “Give me whatever is in there.”

Harrison passed over the bottle and Kit took a long swig of what ended up to be scotch. The burn in his throat distracted him from the partial erection he was sporting after watching Alice suck on her finger.

Christ almighty.

That mental image would fuel his masturbatory fantasies for months to come.

And she had worried she would look foolish? Hardly. Instead, she’d looked innocent while acting naughty—a combination he suddenly found incredibly arousing. Who would have guessed?

After another long drink, he tried to give the bottle back to his friend, who was now watching him with a thoughtful expression. Harrison held up his hand. “Keep it for a few minutes. You look as if you could use it.”

“Thank you.”

“Besides, I’ve already drunk half.” Harrison puffed on his cigar. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Another drink. “You?”

“No. I haven’t had enough scotch. Damn, I wish Preston and Forrest were here. I missed you all while I was in Paris.”

“Preston said he would try, but he must have been tied up in the city. And no one’s heard from Forrest for weeks.” Forrest had been drowning himself in liquor for years and Kit wasn’t certain what to do about it any longer. Every attempt to help his friend had failed. He’d deal with it after the house party—if he survived Alice and her lessons, of course.

For a boy who deserved better.

After another sip, Kit dangled the bottle from his fingers. “Is it a terrible idea to contemplate seducing one of the heiresses?”

“Jesus, Kit. You know the answer to that question.”

“I do. The trouble is, I think she’s seducing me.”

“Which young lady are we discussing?”

“I shouldn’t tell you.”

“I won’t say anything. God knows you’ve stored many a secret of mine over the years.”

Kit gulped a mouthful of scotch for courage. “Alice Lusk.”

Harrison shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “You must be joking. That quiet girl with the terrible mother?”

“Yes. She’s . . . surprising.”