Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her resolve did not waver.
She had never thought to do anything like this in her life. Never dared to want something so openly, never claimed anything for herself—not her life, not her body, not even her future. But now?
Now, she wanted to remember what it felt like to want, and to be wanted in return.
He turned slightly to stare out the window and she saw it then: the tension in his shoulders, an ache beneath the ease he wore like armor. He had given her so many smiles, so many warm words, but there was pain in him too. She could feel it, even in the silence.
Perhaps sensing the shift in the air, he turned back around.
“Ambrosia?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she gathered all the courage she possessed, the kind of courage borne not of recklessness but of desire—of choosing something for herself, even if it could only be for a single night.
With trembling hands, she reached for the buttons at the neck of her night rail.
Her gaze did not leave his. Not once. Not as she slowly unbuttoned one, and then another, until she could push one sleeve off her shoulder.
And then let it fall to the floor in a whisper of linen.
He stilled.
Every muscle in his body went tight. His arms dropped to his sides, hands fisted, as though he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. All traces of playfulness vanished from his face. What remained was stunned silence, his eyes dark, hooded, devouring her.
And still, he didn’t move.
The only sound in the room was uneven rhythm of his breath.
“Ambrosia,” he said at last, his voice raw, hoarse—like her name cost him something to say. “Mon dieu…”
She could feel her pulse in her throat, in her wrists, in every inch of bare skin exposed to the air. But she didn’t cover herself. She didn’t shrink back.
“Should we not… consummate our marriage?” she asked softly, her voice steadier than she expected. And though the words were bold, and a little awkward, there was a plea beneath them. Not for pleasure. Not even for love.
For something real.
Something that would belong only to her.
“It wouldn’t be fair to you.” But his eyes roved over her nakedness and he’d moved closer. So close that his scent surrounded her. “I cannot?—”
Ambrosia reached out and stopped his words with her fingertips. She allowed her other hand to part the top of his shirt so that she could touch the hairs she’d found fascinating just moments before.
If she did not have him now, she was certain, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
“I have not known love, Dash. And although I’ve always believed it existed, I’ve never felt it—not in the way people describe. And physical satisfaction…” Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away. “I’ve never felt that either. Not truly.”
She watched his throat bob with a swallow, his jaw tight as stone.
“It’s all I ask of you tonight,” she whispered. “Just for tonight, won’t you…” She hesitated, then added with aching sincerity, “Love me?”
His nostrils flared. She could see the pulse in his throat racing.
He looked as though he were about to break in two.
“Please?” The word was barely audible as she dropped her hand.
That’s when it happened.
