Also, it was worth noting that Kit’s language leaned toward the crude after he’d been drinking. No idea why she found that bit of knowledge entertaining, but she did.

He toed off a dress shoe and kicked it, where it thumped against the wall. With jerky movements, he lowered his suspenders and started on his shirt.

“Kit, wait. Before you get undressed, I need to talk to you.”

“No time for that, Alice, my dear. My head is swimming and I am far too drunk for talking.” The shirt obscured her view of his face and he seemed to get stymied in removing it. “Help.”

Trying not to laugh, she went over and tugged his shirt over his head, down his arms. “There.”

“What’s this?” He peered at the piece of paper she’d left next to the babka plate.

“Franconi’s duckling recipe. I owed you. For earlier.”

“Thank you, but I hardly think teaching you to suck on your finger is worth those delicious ducks.”

“No?”

He flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes. A lock of dark hair fell over his brow. Between that and his evening whiskers, he appeared quite the rogue. “God, Alice. I have never wanted to fuck anyone more than I do you. I cannot stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try.”

Alice froze. Did he just say . . . ? Her?

No, that had to be the alcohol talking.

He chuckled darkly. “And it is very hard. All the time.”

“Kit—”

“I meant my cock. In case that wasn’t clear. My cock is hard all the time for you.”

She couldn’t help it; her gaze flew to his crotch. Was it hard now? She couldn’t see anything but a normal bulge. Though it was quite a nice bulge, she supposed.

Stop. You should leave.

“I’ll just . . . get you a glass of water before I go.”

Going into the washroom, she found a glass on the sink, which she filled and brought out to Kit. He was pushing his trousers off his hips and down his thighs, and Alice thought her skin might go up in flames.

She covered her eyes with her palm and tried to edge her way to the nightstand.

“You don’t have to hide your eyes. Consider this another one of our lessons. This is what a man looks like in just his undergarment.”

“This is not a good idea.” She already had more than friendly feelings for him. Seeing him nearly undressed would tip her into serious “like” territory.

“Ah, so you’d rather see me naked? That can be arranged. Give me a minute.”