He stood, shivering as he slept undressed, and pulled his wrapper around him before following the light to the door.
He let himself into the dressing room, ready to knock on her door, but found it was already open to him. Was she waiting for him? As much as he had wanted to spend the night with her again after their previous encounter, he hadn’t wanted to give her the wrong idea of what their marriage would be. For if they spent every night together, it was more than likely she would develop feelings for him and — even worse — he might develop them for her.
He peeked around the doorway, surprised to find that not only was she awake, but she was still dressed in her own wrapper, papers spread around her, a quill pen and its ink near the side of her bed, making him shudder at its precarious position. One shift and that black ink would stain the counterpane.
He forced himself not to say anything, but he walked over and picked it up before making his presence known.
“Evelyn?”
“Eep!” she cried out before flying backward on the bed, picking up a pillow and holding it out in front of her as though she would use it as a shield.
He leaned over and gently took it from her hands.
“Asher!” She placed her hand on her heart. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, I was trying not to,” he said. “What are you doing still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “Too much on my mind.”
“The diamond mystery?”
“Yes,” she said, hesitating, “and life, I suppose. Everything has changed in a very short time.”
She stared down at something in front of her, not meeting his eye, and he took a seat beside her on the bed, reaching out and lifting her chin so that she would look at him.
“I don’t think I’ve given you enough grace for that,” he said, realizing how absorbed he had been in how much his marriage had affected him that he hadn’t thought enough about all of the change that had occurred for her. “If there is anything you need, please let me know. But for what it’s worth, I think you are doing remarkably well adjusting. You even changed my mother’s mind about you.”
She chuckled humorlessly. “She really did hate me. I think she still might, just slightly less so.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Asher said. “We just didn’t follow the plan she had so carefully laid out, and she is having her own problems adjusting.”
“Were she and your father in love?” Evelyn asked suddenly, surprising him.
“In their own way,” he said. “I wouldn’t say they were a love match, but they formed a partnership in which they each understood their roles and relied on one another. She missed him when he was gone, that is for certain.”
“Is that…” she paused for a moment before meeting his eye, “Is that the kind of marriage you want?”
He opened his mouth to tell her yes, that was exactly what he wanted, but he found that the words wouldn’t come.
“I— I don’t entirely know what I want anymore, if I am being honest with you.”
He could get lost in those hazel eyes staring up at him. They were full of hope right now, which both gladdened him and terrified him in equal measure.
His body seemed to act of its own accord as he reached out, running his fingers down her cheek, his hands tangling in her hair, which was loose around her shoulders. They really were the silkiest strands. He rubbed a few between his fingers.
“Asher,” she said with a sigh, her lips parting ever so slightly.
Just one kiss. That wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Keeping their eyes locked, he leaned down, cupping her face between his hands, and kissed her. Her hands slid around his neck, locking behind the back of it.
Oh, this felt good. He should stop, he reasoned, but that reason was slowly slipping as he left his head and focused instead on his body, on how well she fit into his arms, how soft and plush her lips were, how eager her response was, how soft her curves felt against him.
He knew from experience now what it was like for the two of them to come together, and he was already working toward it, whether he wanted it or not.
She was his wife. She seemed to want this as much as he did.
Fuck it.
