She was definitely dreaming.
“Amelia.”
But wait. Amelia blinked in confusion. She was still lying in the back of the farmer’s cart that Lord Winterhope had tucked her into. And it hadn’t left The Goat’s Tail’s stable yet. Against her belly, there was a warm circle of fluffy warmth. Margie. Margie had climbed into the cart with her and was resting her soft little chin on Amelia’s bent arm.
“Meow.”
Amelia blinked. “I?—”
But if she wasn’t dreaming. That meant…
“What are you doing here?” Her greeting didn’t really express anything of what she wanted to tell him. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. Hold him. Kiss him. Beg him to…
Love her.
“What are you doing in there?” The corner of his mouth hitched up in that teasing smile that never failed to make her swoon just a little.
“I was going back to Smuggler’s Manor.”To prove how much he meant to her. But she couldn’t have this conversation properly while curled up with her cat, with him staring down at her.
She couldn’t even begin to throw herself in his arms from this position.
Grunting and twisting, Amelia went to sit up. When Mr. Beckworth reached in to help her, taking his hand felt like the most natural thing in the world.
His touch felt like home.
“Maybe Ishouldjust throw you over my shoulder again. I cannot believe you would try something like this.” Mr. Beckworth seemed to be mumbling to himself more than to her.
And then he literally hauled her out of the cart.
Not for the first time, she marveled at his strength while Margie scurried off so fast that a person could hardly distinguish her as a cat.
Knowing this wasn’t a dream, but still feeling like it ought to be, Amelia kept hold of his hand, running her thumb over one of his scars.
With a million words running through her head, she couldn’t put any of them together.Love. Here. Those dark-as-night eyes. So beautiful.
Mine.
But he was staring at her, waiting for an answer.
“I was following rule number one.” In the end, it was the easiest confession to make.
“No,Iwas following rule number one.” His throat moved and his voice sounded full of emotion.
Amelia took hold of his other hand, staring down at both of them.
She.
Was.
Holding his hands.
He. Was. Here.
She licked her lips and tipped her head back to see his eyes again.Rule number one: you come to me.Amelia smiled teasingly. “Well, there’s where you went wrong. That rule’s for me, not for you.”
He chuckled, but his eyes were swirling with some deeper emotion, almost a darker black than usual. “We’ll have to make an exception, then. I… needed to talk to you.” His chest rose and he winced a little. His hand twitched, and she instinctively knew he would have combed it through his hair if she hadn’t been holding it.
“Yes,” she agreed. “We should have talked—before.”
