“Maybe, if you are nice to me.”

“I am always nice to you. It’s you who—”

She closed her mouth abruptly, color dotting her cheeks, and he held perfectly still, waiting to see how she would finish that sentence. Was she implying he hadn’t been nice? When she remained silent, he said, “It’s me who . . . ? What were you going to say?”

“Forget it.” Busy fingers adjusted the coverlet, her gaze anywhere but on him. “So, cards?”

He pressed his lips together. There was a card game they’d played during the long nights at boarding school, before they’d discovered alcohol and women, and it forced the loser to confess a secret. Many a nickname had been crafted during those late-night sessions. “I have a simple game,” he said, shuffling anew. “It will take no time at all to learn.”

“Perfect,” she said, and reached for her wine. “I am ready.”

Giving them each half the deck, he explained. “We both flip over one card at a time. High card wins and that person may ask a question of the loser. The question must be answered truthfully, however.”

Alice’s brows shot up, her lips parting in surprise. “You are making this up.”

“I am not. It’s how I learned that my friend Forrest is scared of butterflies and moths.”

“Perhaps if I could talk to him about bees, he might change his mind about flying insects.”

He grinned. “If the opportunity ever arises, I just might have you do that. So, what do you say?”

“What if I don’t want to tell the truth?”

“Then you must take both cards. The person who gets rid of their cards first wins, though.”

“Fine, I’ll play.”

“Flip a card over. Let’s see who has the highest one.”

Kit’s card was a four of spades, while hers was a jack of diamonds. She inhaled sharply and rubbed her hands together, like some sort of mad genius in a laboratory. “That means I get to ask you a question.”

“Yes, it does. I’m ready. Ask away.”

The pause she took in composing her question should have given him a clue, yet he was still taken aback when she asked, “Why did you leave the kitchen so abruptly last night?”

His muscles locked, his entire body frozen with dread. He couldn’t tell her the truth, that seeing her suck on her finger had nearly caused him to lose his mind. Lust had overtaken his body and stolen his wits, with an ironclad grip he hadn’t experienced in years. It had been embarrassing, frankly. Women had done all manner of depraved acts in front of him, yet this one innocent woman licked sugar from her finger and he almost spent in his trousers.

No, he couldn’t tell her the truth.

Scowling at her, he snatched up both cards and put them in his deck. “Next hand.”