Everything. The answer rose unbidden, absolute and terrifying. I want everything.
But he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t give voice to the desperate longing that had been building for months. So he opened his mouth to offer some platitude about her welfare, about ensuring she found a suitable match, about his responsibility as head of the family.
The words tangled in his throat, caught between what he should say and what he desperately wanted to confess.
She stepped closer still. Near enough now that he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the slight tremor in her hands before she clasped them together. The scent of lavender and something uniquely her surrounded him, more intoxicating than the finest wine.
Near enough that if he reached out---just reached out---he could touch her.
“You can’t decide, can you?” Her breath came unsteady now, her composure finally cracking to reveal the hurt beneath. “You want to be honourable and distant, but you can’t bear to see another man near me.”
Yes. God, yes. The admission screamed through him, demanding release.
“That’s enough,” he said roughly, though whether he was warning her or himself, he could not say.
“No.” The word was but a whisper. Then she lifted her chin and faced him head-on. “For once, it isn’t.”
Lightning split the sky outside, throwing the library into stark relief, every shelf, every shadow, the unbearable space between them. Thunder followed immediately, so close that the floor seemed to shake.
Or perhaps that was just his heart, thundering so violently he could feel it in every extremity.
She was right. Heaven help him, she was right. He’d spent months pretending, deflecting, hiding behind duty and honour whilst wanting her with an intensity that terrified him.
And she knew. She’d known all along.
The realization shattered something inside him, some final barrier he’d been maintaining through sheer force of will.
He moved before thought could intervene. Closed the distance in three strides, caught her face between his palms, still cold from the rain, his hands, whilst her skin burned beneath his touch. For a heartbeat, they only stared at each other. Her eyes had gone wide, pupils blown dark with something that mirrored the chaos inside his chest.
His thumb brushed the curve of her cheekbone, and she drew in a sharp breath.
This was madness. Complete madness. He should release her, apologise, leave before…
“Tell me to stop,” he said hoarsely, giving her one last chance. Giving himself one last chance to do the right thing. “Tell me to leave, Amelia. For God’s sake, tell me I’m a bastard and throw me out of this room.”
“I can’t.” Her hands rose, gripping the sodden fabric of his shirt as though anchoring herself against a tide. “I’ve tried. Heaven knows I’ve tried to hate you, to feel nothing, to want you gone, but I can’t.”
The last thread of his control snapped.
The kiss came like the storm outside: fierce, consuming, inevitable. Her gasp opened beneath his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, pulling her closer until no space remained between them. She tasted of tea and something sweeter, something he would never be able to forget or recover from.
Her fingers clutched his soaked shirt, his arms banded around her waist, lifting her almost off her feet in his desperate need to have her nearer still. The height difference forced her onto her toes, and he supported her weight easily, mindlessly, every part of him focused on the miracle of her mouth against his.
It was a kiss of hunger and heartbreak, of everything they had denied and everything they should not want. All the months of careful distance, of polite conversation and averted glances, of lying to themselves and each other, all of it burned away in the heat between them.
She made a sound low in her throat, half sob, half moan, and it nearly undid him. He gentled the kiss, meaning to pull away, to apologise for his roughness, but she followed him. Her hands slid up to tangle in his wet hair, keeping him close, and he was utterly, completely lost.
Rain hammered against the windows. The fire crackled. Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed the hour. Tobias heard none of it.
There was only her: the silk of her skin beneath his palms, the way she trembled against him, the scent of lavender that surrounded him. The way she kissed him back with a desperation that matched his own, as though she’d been starving for this just as long.
His hands moved of their own accord. One tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The other splayed across her lower back, pressing her impossibly closer despite the soaking barrier of his coat between them.
She was everything. Everything he’d wanted and denied himself. Everything he’d convinced himself he could never have.
And she was kissing him like she felt the same.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her wrapper had slipped from one shoulder, and she looked utterly, devastatingly undone. His own heart thundered so violently, he feared she must hear it, feared the entire household must hear the chaos raging inside his chest.
