“More inherently magical. I know. I remember my history lessons.” Harry did not step back. The corner of the map curled up, rising, lifting, when he moved a hand. “Will that work? Your empathy. Of course it will, what am I saying, you’re the Hero of Bow Street.” His smile, his presence, the presence of his previous apology, turned the comment into a shared joke, private and personal. His eyes held Kit’s, and did not duck away. “You’re strong enough for that.”
From another man, in another place, it might’ve been an invitation. It could have been.
Kit’s body, Kit’s senses, prickled with awareness, with potential next breaths, with the closeness of bared skin and the disarray of Harry’s cravat and collar.
And perhaps Harry Arden liked strength. Perhaps Harry Arden liked someone who could p
