I woke some time in the middle of the night, the sweat and effects of our lovemaking dry on my skin and hers. She stirred and then curled up in the covers. It was peaceful watching her like that.

I went to the bathroom to get a washcloth and cleaned her up the best I could without waking her. She moaned when I touched her thighs, and the trust she put in me hit me all over. When she’d started trying to fight with me, I knew exactly where she would take it, and so many times I’d wanted to stop it. How I had treated her…

A bruise was starting to form on the curve of her neck, and I could clearly make out a couple bruises on the soft fleshy parts of her hips in the bathroom light. Damn, I was careless.

I took a quick shower and went into the living room. The clock on the stove rolled over to 5:00 just as I started water for tea. Going back to bed was what I truly wanted, but I didn’t trust myself to be around her. As the water boiled, I pulled out a notepad and pen from a drawer by the door. As quickly as possible I scribbled out my feelings to her, and why I thought it best we stay away from each other from now on. Once I finished, I tapped the pad’s edge on the counter, considering.

Would it be easier to just leave? If I weren’t in France, then surely the temptation wouldn’t be present for either of us. I pulled the kettle off the stove and peeked into the bedroom to make sure it hadn’t woken her. A snore answered as I peered through the dark. An ache started in my chest, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could give her up. It wouldn’t be the first selfish thing I did in my life, and likely not the last.

My conscience had grown pretty adept at right and wrong after so many years, but I had no idea what to do here. She’d told me repeatedly she didn’t want to be with me, and yet she kept coming back. I knew without a doubt that what had happened between us last night was what we’d both wanted. What we’d both needed.

Did she wrestle with staying or going too? Were her attempts to push me away the same as the ones I’d tried on her?

The thought curled up in my head, casting doubt on the last few days we’d spent together. Was it wrong to stay with her?

Yes.

After the incident with the books and seeing Sibyl’s face whenever I was with Izzy. Yes. Nothing good could come of a relationship between us if I was going mad. The doctors warned me it would happen every single year for the last almost fifty. I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Well, I supposed soon was a relative term in this situation.

I quickly made a cup of tea and prayed the cream in the refrigerator was still good. Smelled all right. I sat at the counter to drink my tea, eyeing the pad and pen sitting at the end. Was it enough? Could it push her away?

I thought so, but I’d thought the little act I’d pulled last night would push her away too. In either case, she’d be hurt. And now, after we’d slept together, it would hurt her more. Damn it, there was no way to win this.

I sipped the tea, trying with every ounce of brainpower she hadn’t completely mummified last night to decide. The echo of her fingers still played across my skin. Every breath, every moan, every response of her body to mine. I’d remember it forever.

Sibyl and I had a very short time together. And nothing as far into abandon as what Izzy gave me. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized she was nothing at all like Sibyl, aside from her appearance.

A light knock came at the front door. I glanced at the clock: 5:30. Who would be here at this hour? My only thought was Michael, but he usually took off at 3:00 am, and I didn’t see him again until lunchtime the next day unless I texted to wake him—something I tried not to do as I ran the man ragged on regular days. He didn’t need to deal with me any more than necessary on his time off.

I grabbed my pants off the floor and slipped them on. If it was Michael, it didn’t matter if he saw my underwear. If it was someone else, well, they shouldn’t be visiting so early.

I opened the door, and a man stood there, back to me, brown leather jacket, jeans, a hat, black sneakers. He turned after a second and something clicked in my head. He looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Are you Dorian Gray,” he asked. American accent. Interesting.

I nodded. “Can I help you?”

He peered into my flat, his eyes seeming to miss nothing, including the pile of clothes on the floor and Izzy’s ripped comic book T-shirt.

The man held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jake.”

Unable to do much else, I shook his hand. “Pleasure is all mine. Do I know you?”

He smiled, a deep dimple in each of his bearded cheeks. His hair was a sort of auburn brown and those eyes where had I seen those eyes before?

He released my hand and swung his arms behind his back. “No, you don’t know me. I wonder if I might have a word with you about my sister, Isobel.”

My two worlds converged. Izzy and Jake. Sybil and James. Except this time, I didn’t intend to leave any casualties in my wake. I glanced back to make sure I’d pulled the bedroom door closed behind me. “Of course, please come in.”

He stepped inside and surveyed more of what he could see. The mess on the floor, the remnants of our dinner last night on the counter. My tea steaming away on at the bar. “I’m sorry to interrupt your morning, but I won’t be in town long and thought I’d take the opportunity to drop by. Izzy mentioned you.”

I tried to keep my eyes on the bedroom door, he took that in too. “Izzy did mention you, but she never told me what you do.”

He nodded, still standing with his arms behind his back. “Oh, I’m in the Navy.”

“Not much naval activity here, Mr. Vale.”

He shook his head that dimple popping out again. This man was almost as good as me at shifting emotions around his face so no one would catch them.

There was no other reason for her brother to be here than to warn me away. He was a couple inches taller than me, his shoulders wide and full. In sheer strength, the man could probably crush me.

I gestured to the couch and tried not to think about his sister’s bare ass having been there only a couple nights ago. “Would you like to sit down?”

He nodded and took a seat on the very far edge of the couch, closest to the door. A wary fellow, or maybe he needed a quick escape route.

He settled and shifted his hands to his lap, knees facing me. I didn’t bother worrying about my state of undress. I could have been wearing my best suit, and it wouldn’t change his opinion of me.

“So, was there something I could help you with, Mr. Vale?”

He nodded and rubbed his hands up and down his jeans like his palms were sweaty. And yet nothing else about him spoke of nerves. I enjoyed the way he cast doubt on what I thought he might be feeling. Making me unsteady and unsure. An interesting tactic.

“Yes, actually. I want to know what your intentions are with my sister.”

Finally, we’d come to it. “Izzy is a wonderful woman. I hope to spend more time with her. At present, she seems uncertain if she wants to spend more time with me.”

He tilted his head to the side, and that same weighed and measured look Izzy gave me fell across his features. Oddly disconcerting, given the present situation.

“And if she tells you she doesn’t want to see you again?”

I shrugged and wished I had my tea, so I would at least be able to fiddle with something, look away from his scrutiny. “Then of course I’ll respect her wishes. I would never purposefully harm her.”

The note on the counter made that statement more than a lie. I’d definitely hurt her when I left. But causing her pain to protect her, I hoped, was a different kind of sin.

He gave me a nod that included the tilt of his shoulders. Something I’d witnessed countless times in good ol’ American boys. He was trying to make me feel safe. In doing so, he was making me even more nervous.

“Was that all you wanted, Mr. Vale?”

He waved at me with a smile. “Please, call me Jake. No need for formalities here.”

Hopefully, he would leave before Izzy came out of the bedroom half naked. His ideas on formalities might be entirely different.

He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. It occurred to me finally that he’d arrived at my door. Even at this hour, he shouldn’t have been able to get past my doorman without a call to me first.

Unease began to trickle up my spine as I stood with him. He headed toward the door.

“I’ll see you out,” I offered.

“Thanks, that’s kind of you. I’m off to see Izzy in a minute. She didn’t know I was coming, so I expect she will be mighty surprised.”

And he will be too when he realizes she’s not at home.

I opened the door for him, holding it as he stepped across the threshold. He held his hand out once more, and I grasped it to shake.

When I met his eyes, all signs of the jovial man were gone. In his place stood a steely eyed brother about to mess up his sister’s boyfriend.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Gray. I already know I can’t kill you. Which means this is going to be a lot more interesting.”

I was sure I didn’t want to know but I asked anyway. “What will be interesting?”

A sharp jolt hit my ribs, and I went down to the floor. I rolled, intent on getting up, but the room spun, and I flopped to my back. Jake’s face hovered over mine for a flash of a second, and then darkness sucked me into her cool embrace.