At the same time, a tall, slender bottle and a pair of small cordial glasses appeared on the coffee table before them. Aldair reached for the bottle, saying, “I thought this might help.”
She didn’t bother to protest as he poured a small measure of dark, heavy liquid into each glass. All right, it could have been too much wine that allowed her to lose her mind and let Aldair kiss her, but she didn’t think so, even if it would have been a lot easier to blame her loss of control on the alcohol, rather than the weakness in her own heart.
“Thank you,” she said as he handed one of the glasses to her. “What is it?”
“Late harvest pinot noir,” he replied. “Something of a rarity. Much more nuanced than port, or brandy. You must let me know what you think of it.”
Where he’d gotten such a thing, s
