A Dream of Desire by Nina Rowan Page B

poppet. I did want to.”
    Talia didn’t bother asking why he hadn’t, then. She already knew. However, her embarrassment over that afternoon at Floreston Manor was tempered by the memory of how he had responded to her kiss. As if he’d been unable to stop himself from surrendering.
    She gazed at his profile as he opened the book and studied the contents. So familiar, yet completely different. Sharp nose, strong cheekbones, and jaw dusted with whiskers. A shiver ran down Talia’s spine as she remembered how the scrape of his stubble had felt against her skin.
    “Do you remember ‘A was Apollo’?” James asked, glancing up from the book.
    Talia shook her head, even as a tendril of warmth curled through her heart. When they were children, James and her brothers had taught Talia several verses to help her memorize lessons.
    “The god of the carol,” James prompted, his warm brown gaze still on her, potent as a touch.
    “James—” Talia swallowed hard. Memories stirred in the back of her mind, pressing for entry, asking her to remember the many cherished moments she’d shared with James. The moments that had culminated in her love for him.
    “B stood for Bacchus, astride his barrel,” he said.
    “What is the point of this?”
    “C for good Ceres,” he continued, edging a bit closer to her so they were concealed by the stacks of books, “the goddess of grist.”
    “And D was Diana, who wouldn’t be kissed.” Talia stepped back, fighting the wave of nostalgia that swept through her. “Enough, James. Those days are long gone.”
    “Nothing remembered between two people is ever gone, Talia.”
    Heat flooded Talia’s cheeks. A faint disconcertion darkened James’s eyes as he appeared to realize what he’d just implied.
    Talia turned away from him and went to the front counter, where Mr. Hammersmith was tying up her bundles of books. She still couldn’t reconcile everything she’d felt since discovering James had returned—she held so much love for all their cherished childhood memories. Yet now those memories were bittersweet and tarnished with Talia’s realization that her long-held dreams of James Forester would never come true.
    James stopped next to her at the counter. Awareness moved through Talia at the sensation of his strong body beside hers, that innate sensation that she was safe and protected.
    “That will be all, Mr. Hammersmith, thank you,” she said. “Please put everything on my bill.”
    Before she could scoop up the books, James hefted the stack into his arms and opened the front door for her.
    “The Ragged School Union offices,” she told the driver as James handed her into the carriage.
    As she had known he would, he climbed in behind her and shut the door.
    “Lawford,” he said.
    Talia’s heart jumped. She lifted her head to stare at James.
    “I saw you speaking with him last night,” James said, folding his arms across his chest. “Ridley informed me he’s the deputy governor of Newhall prison.”
    Rather than implicate herself, Talia chose to remain silent. Her stomach tightened.
    “And Northwood got word from a friend of his that you visited Smithton prison recently,” James continued.
    Oh, no.
    Talia’s breath escaped her in a rush, her pulse pounding with trepidation. She curled her fingers into the seat cushion and tried to conceal her sudden fear.
    “Er, Alex…Alexander knows about that?”
    James nodded, regarding her steadily. “But he doesn’t know why.”
    And he asked me to find out. He didn’t have to say the words. Talia knew her brother and she knew James Forester. Of course they would both want to know why she was visiting a prison.
    “Alexander is concerned about your safety, Talia,” James said. “As am I. Tell me why you went.”
    The faint note of command in his voice prickled her nerves. She certainly wouldn’t tell him the truth simply because he ordered her to. Besides, telling James anything about Brick Street would be a huge risk, akin