“I am not Amelia,” she finally whispered.
He stared, unmoving. Then he took her hand and moved it from his mouth.
“I knew it,” he rasped softly. “God help me, I think I knew it from the first time I kissed you. I kissed Amelia, once before. It was nothing like this.”
Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart pounded.
“So, who are you?” he asked, still holding her hand as though it tethered him to something real.
“My… my name is Charlotte Nightingale. I am Amelia’s twin sister. We are identical,” Charlotte began carefully.
Seth’s eyes widened a touch. He searched her face, as though looking for some difference to confirm whether she had told the truth or lied.
“I… I cannot see it,” he conceded in defeat, finally. “But I…feelit. There’s a fire in you she never had. Something untamed, just beneath the surface...” He paused, brows furrowing. “I thought it was a trick. I figured you were trying to ensnare me when I noticed the change. But it must have been the moment you took her place. Why?”
Before Charlotte could answer, a voice called out from beyond the curtain.
“Can I help at all? A man’s no use when it comes to women’s fittings, I daresay!” the dressmaker called cheerily, her voice thankfully distant.
“No,” Seth snapped, sharper than intended. Then more calmly, “Thank you. We’re quite all right.”
Charlotte began to unlace her bodice. “Let me try the dress on or she will wonder what we have been doing,” she whispered.
“Hang the dress!” Seth hissed.
“No! This is Amelia’s reputation we are playing with. We will nothangit,” Charlotte retorted with equal vigor.
She tugged the last knot loose and gestured over her shoulder. “Help me with these last few buttons. I cannot reach.”
Seth stepped closer. His hands found the tiny fastenings at her back, undoing them one by one. As the dress loosened, her skin prickled beneath the growing draft. His breath warmed the nape of her neck, and she bit her lip hard, refusing to lean into it.Focus. Now was not the time to become undone over something as simple as breath on skin.
The final button slid free. The bodice loosened, slipping from her shoulders.
She forced herself to keep moving, peeling the dress down to her waist. Cool air licked across the skin left bare by her underdress—everywhere but where Seth stood behind her, radiating heat. She pushed the gown lower, wriggling her hips slightly to let it fall in a whisper of silk around her ankles.
“Tell me,” he murmured, voice taut with urgency.
Charlotte bent to retrieve the new gown, but stilled when she felt his hands land on her hips.
They vanished a heartbeat later.
The hesitation pierced her like an arrow. She reached back, found his hand, and guided it firmly into place.
His fingers curved around her, hesitant no longer. He kneaded the swell of her hips, possessive and reverent. Charlotte exhaled shakily, her skin alive with sensation. Still bent forward, she shifted—just a little—and felt her bottom come into contact with his burgeoning manhood.
She clasped a hand across her mouth, dropping the dress, barely suppressing a squeak. As though that were the straw breaking the camel’s back, Seth seized her by the shoulder, drawing her upright and tilting her face towards him.
His lips found hers.
The kiss was fierce with passion. Charlotte gave in to it, leaning back against him. His arm was about her waist, and she laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand against her abdomen.She pressed her hips back to feel the contact with his hardness once more.
Seth grunted, his kiss intensifying in pressure, growing more and more insistent.
“Tell me,” he whispered, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.
“My… my sister and I used to play a game,” she breathed against his lips. “We would trade places for a month. No one could ever tell us apart. I got to experience life in London, and she, the quiet of country life.”
A wandering hand sprawled around her throat, sending through her veins a jolt of pleasure. “Youusedto play this game. You are playing itnow. Was this to toy with me?”
