“I’m not sure that’s playing fair,” he said to the floor.
“All’s fair in love and war.”
He looked up, taking me in as I walked over to him. Hurt flickered through his hazel eyes. Guilt flickered in mine. Loyalty was important to him, and from his point of view what I did was a betrayal.
“You’re angry,” I said.
“No … I’m disappointed,” he said.
That was worse, so much worse. I’d prefer anger. “I didn’t do it to betray you or upset you. I did it because I thought it would help put an end to this whole saga. I need a normal life back, you need a normal life back, we all need it.” I stopped in front of him, picking at my fingernails.
He appraised me like a sheep at slaughter. “Anything else you might want to add?”
He was dragging out my angst. “I’m sorry.”
He arched his brows. “Sorry that you went behind my back, or sorry you got caught?”
Really dragging it out. I folded my arms. “We knew we would get caught.”
He tossed back the rest of his whiskey, settling it on the bar. “I have kept this family safe for hundreds of years, and when you go against me, you don’t just put your life at risk but everyone else’s.”
“Nothing happened, everything went without a hitch.”
“Be that as it may, I am the leader for a reason, Amelia. And I cannot have anyone in my circle going against my wishes, especially when it comes to matters of safety.”
I scowled as I settled on the armchair nearest to his. “I have a brain. I’d like to be able to use it.”
“I value your counsel, Amelia, but in order to value it, I need to receive it first. Had you discussed the idea with me, I may have been open to it, or I may have explained to you exactly why it wasn’t a good idea.”
I didn’t know how to defend the indefensible, so I just sat there, monitoring his mood. He poured another whiskey, draining the decanter.
“You know, it’s not normal to drink at this hour of the morning. I could arrange a therapist for you, if you like?”
He glanced up, light flickering in the sheath of hazel like the sun off a grassy meadow. “Do you really think there is a therapist who could handle my life?”
Probably not. I moved to sit on his knee and crooned in his ear, “I can be your therapist, if you like.”
His lips moved in a hint of a smile. “You’re a very forward therapist.”
“I aim to please.” I nibbled on his earlobe. “How do you feel now, Mr. Worthington?”
He shivered. “Not quite over it.”
“Oh.” I kissed his neck. “How about now?”
“No, not yet.”
I unbuttoned his shirt and trailed my fingers over his chest and kissed his collarbone, then lower, running my lips and tongue over his nipples.
He let out a deep, buttery sound. “Getting better.”
I ran my fingers down to his groin. His hard groin. “Now?” I purred.
“You devious little witch,” he groaned. “You would use your erotic allure to wile your way back into my good graces?”
I smiled as I turned, swinging my thighs to either side of his legs so I was facing him. “Unashamedly.”
He chuckled. “Then I guess we should find more ways for me to forgive you.” He drizzled a finger over my breast, a thrill shooting through me as my nipple hardened.
