“Stop. I know your type, which means there is every need.” She exhaled slowly. “Not many young women my age are kind to me. Yet, Alice is. Always. She’s a good person. Decent. She doesn’t deserve to be toyed with or—God forbid—ruined. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Kit’s hands clenched into fists, so he shoved them in his trouser pockets. Really, he couldn’t blame Nellie, who was only looking out for Alice’s best interests—and Kit was not in Alice’s best interest. Anyone could see that. Which was why he’d decided to keep their interactions strictly platonic from now on. “I understand. There is nothing to be worried about. We have a business relationship of sorts, not a romantic one.”

“I am happy to hear it. Because if you hurt her, I will find you in your sleep and relieve you of a body part. Can you guess which one?” With one last pointed glare, she strolled away, whistling on her way to the tent.

Kit shook his head, then winced. Damn hangover. Still, Nellie’s warning was a necessary reminder. Whatever was happening between him and Alice—the kissing, the love bites, the flirting—needed to end, and their association must remain aboveboard. He would treat her politely, if not distantly, and they would exchange information at the end of the day. And definitely not in his bedroom.

He entered the back of the tent and purposely did not look in the direction of the young ladies. Lockwood stood near the refreshment table, so Kit headed there, intent on finding something to settle his stomach. “Afternoon, Lockwood,” he mumbled as he arrived.

Then he spotted the cinnamon babka on the table, and his brain began tripping over the memories. They were all centered on Alice, sucking sugar off her finger, rubbing the digit over her tongue, working her lips up and down . . .

Swallowing hard, he reached for a slice of lemon pound cake and tried to forget how aroused he’d been in the kitchen last night.

“Ward,” Lockwood greeted. “I noticed you and Archer were absent from luncheon. I do hope no one has grown ill.”

Please. Lockwood would wish a plague on Harrison, if it were possible. “No need for concern. Just a bit too much scotch. Did you spend another night at the casino?”

“No. I enjoyed a quiet evening with my fiancée.”

Kit hoped Harrison hadn’t heard that news. “Any clue what is planned for this afternoon?”

“Another game. Just the unattached ladies and Harrison this time, so we are off the hook.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t think I could take another hike around the property at the moment.”

“You are looking a bit green, if I am honest.”