“Kit!” She dropped her hand and put the glass on the nightstand. He was sitting on the bed, long limbs covered in a thin cotton that only emphasized every ridge and valley. A shadow of dark hair rested on his chest, while wide, sculpted shoulders pushed against the cloth. She didn’t dare look lower.

Even still, he was beautiful.

Inhaling deeply, she said, “Stop. I don’t wish to see you naked.”

A deep crease formed between his brows. “You don’t?”

“No.” Not like this. Sober, yes. But he was not in his right mind and would only regret this tomorrow. “You need to drink some water and go to sleep.”

The half grin he gave her, along with the affection in his gaze, made her chest ache. “This is what I am talking about,” he said. “You are a good person. Kind to everyone, even your mother—who definitely does not deserve it. You’ve put aside your interest in cooking just to make her happy. You treat everyone the same, no matter their class or profession. Or reputation. Look at me, for example.”

She blinked a few times, stunned. Were these drunken ramblings . . . or was this really what he believed? No one had ever spoken so favorably about her before. Also, no one had ever seen past the shyness or the wall she’d built up to keep out the loneliness before. Her insides melted on a wave of tenderness and longing.

Stepping closer, she bent to remove his other shoe. “And just what is wrong with you?”

His shoulders rose and fell with a shrug before he dropped back on the bed once more. “I’m a fool. A pretty but dim bulb. It’s why I’m so good at being a scoundrel.”

“That is not true,” she said quickly.

“It most definitely is. As shallow as a saucer, my father used to say.”

What an awful thing to say to a child. “You said your father was a terrible man.”

“He is definitely that. I know I shouldn’t care but insults sink inside and fester, especially when they come from parents.”

Indeed, they did. Hadn’t Alice discovered that better than almost anyone?

Kit continued. “But you, my dear Alice, you are the opposite of me. You are deep and complicated, like the ocean. I could study you for years and never learn all I wished to know.”

Her hands refused to work, her brain trying to absorb his compliment. While she was flattered, it hurt that he had such a low opinion of himself. Kit radiated confidence, an easy swagger that drew attention no matter where he went. Was that all an act? Did he really believe he was nothing more than a pretty face?