“That is whatI give you my wordmeans,” Dorian quirked a brow to her. “God’s blood, youaredrunk.”
“I am not,” she bumbled.
He leaned forward suddenly, and with his glimmering amber eyes so close, Ellie likened him to one of the large cats in the jungle that would lie in wait and then pounce.
Now that he was so close, she could smell his scent—something male and divine that made her feel warm and safe even as her heart thudded wildly at his proximity. Thoughts entered her head. Dangerous, forbidden thoughts. Thoughts she had no business having.
The flickering firelight deepened his rapacious intensity. “Really? Tell me, what sort of tea did you have at Lady Victoria’s earlier today?”
She blinked, “Hyson… I think. No, it was Souchong…”
He snorted. “You’re drunk, sweetheart, and why did you wear this nightgown?”
Ellie moistened her lips. “I don’t… know.”
“Yes, you do,” he corrected.. “Now, be honest and tell me.”
Nuzzling closer, Ellie whispered, “I remembered how you looked at me the night I first wore a nightgown—” She sighed dreamily. “—I wanted to see that look again.”
“I appreciate the honesty,” he smiled. “But if you are expecting anything more to happen, it will not.”
“Why?”
“You are inebriated,” Dorian explained. “I have a hard and fast rule: nothing intimate happens nor will happen when either party is drunk.”
Ellie sighed. “May I propose a change to our agreement?
He didn’t blink. “Are you happy with the way things are?”
“No,” she replied, lifting herself up to her elbows. “I want more.”
“More of what?” his voice dropped.
“I want a real marriage,” she mumbled. A part of her thanked the wine for freeing her tongue, as otherwise, her seemingly silly—and unexpected—desire would have never come to light. “I have f…feelings for you, Dorian… real ones. I know this is a marriage of convenience… and these emotions are utterly inconvenient—”
“Very.”
In her admission, she felt as if a puzzle piece that she had felt missing finally slipped into place, opening a secret chamber inside herself.
Shifting to lay her flat on her back, Dorian loomed over her, his eyes glimmering in the low light. “What more do you want?”
He had bracketed her head in with both elbows, bookending her head, so she had no other choice but to look him in the eyes. “I want to touch you,” she confessed. “…Like you have done to me.”
“Evelina—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I am too innocent!” she glared at him.
In the next breath, he was upon her. His lips took hers in a kiss of burning possession as he pressed her back into the pillows. When he pulled back, his voice was low and purring. “That’s true, you’re not so innocent anymore, Evelina. But you are still drunk.”
He moved to the side and pulled her atop his chest, his hand skating over her back. “Let’s revisit this amorous suggestion tomorrow, and as for our marriage, I will think about what to do next.”
“But—”
“Without interference,” he cut in sternly. “That is the bargain. Take it or leave it.”
Snuggled under his arm, she murmured, “We should do this more often. I don’t know why we haven’t.”
“Ah, yes, drunken negotiations always work in my favor,” Dorian said dryly. “That’s how I made my fortune at the club.”
