All his adult life, he’d wanted to vanquish.
But now, all he wanted was to surrender—toher.
So, he did.
Along with release came all the pleasure promised as lightning bolted through loins and veins, but also this surrender as he floated through the ether of climax.
Here, they were one.
Here, he would have them remain—their limbs tangled and exhausted…their breath mingled…their hearts beating as one—forever.
Forever…
He’d made so much possible in his life—turned undefined visions into solid reality.
Why not forever with Beatrix, too?
An houror so later
A sliver of dawn peeked through a slit in the yet-closed curtains, and Dev understood he would have to let her go.
Already, he’d kept her too long.
Already, they tempted scandal.
He almost snorted. What was the worst that could happen? That he would have to marry her?
She felt too good, curled into his side, her head snugged into his shoulder.
“Beatrix,” he willed himself to say. He wouldn’t expose her to the shame of scandal.
“Mmm,” purred from her throat, a satiated smile curving her lips.
He couldn’t resist. He pressed a light kiss to that delectable mouth.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her brow crinkled, and she blinked. Her smile fell. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”
Dev chuckled, even as he felt a vague sense of wrongness creep into the air. “I knew I was good,” he said lightly. “I’ll be your dream, if you like.”
On a distressed squeak, she pushed upright.
He attempted to ignore the very definite wrongness in the air and slid a hand behind his head as if in idle repose. “If you’re worried about the servants, they know not to enter my bedroom until I’ve left to break my fast. I don’t have a valet.”
“How very democratic of you.” She gave her head a shake. “But, no, I’m not worried about the servants.”
He reached for her hand. “Then what is it?”
She stared down at their twined fingers, then met his gaze. “The countess is yours for the taking now. You must know that.”
Imogen?
He hadn’t given her any thought in days—weeks, really.
Not any meaningful thought, anyway.Thathad been consumed by the woman presently pulling her hand from his and hopping off the bed. She had the chemise slipped over her head before full-on alarm began clanging through him. “What are you doing, Beatrix?”
She didn’t spare him a glance. “Dressing.”
He sprang off the bed and reached for his trousers, jerking them on before planting himself between her and the door. “We need to talk.”
