She didn’t. And the astonishing thing was that she wasn’t the least bit conflicted, even though she’d let him make the decision for her. She’d done so even though since William’s death she’d had to take control of her life and was now well used to dealing with her own affairs and making her own decisions. She was perfectly capable of directing the course of her life. Philippa followed him to the back of Frieth House and stayed silent when he fit his key to the door. For now, she resisted the urge to lay her hand on Alec’s back. Instead, she imagined the warmth, the play of muscle underneath his coat she would feel if she were to do something so bold. Snick. Not a moment later, they were inside with the door closed behind them, away from the moonlight and enveloped in the darkness of the stairwell. He let out a breath, low and soft as silk and they stood there by the door. Alec didn’t move. He didn’t give her space. She didn’t make any.
