Louisa bit back the rest. She wasn’t going to tell him that when he’d glanced through the window as he was leaving the shop, his palpable sadness had yanked her into his orbit. Two lonely souls sharing a moment, one she’d never been able to forget.
Digesting her words, Dominic closed his eyes, and for a breath she thought he might pull away.
Instead, his hand lifted, fingers catching a lock of her hair, twiningit slowly, reverently, around his finger. “Longman’s,” he whispered, as though tasting the memory.
Her heart stuttered. Perhaps he remembered.
Even if he didn’t, fate had given her the chance to behissavior this time.
Chapter Seven
Where an unexpected gift alterseverything.
His future wifestumbled into his office the night before their wedding, looking so bloody beautiful Dom’s knees nearly buckled. He hadn’t seen Louisa since a tea hosted by his sister-in-law two days earlier, and even then he’d barely restrained himself from dragging her into the nearest linen closet. Now she stood before him with her dazzling hair loose about her shoulders, her gown ragged—singed at the hem, a hole burned through one sleeve—as though it had barely survived a detonation. She was a likeness from his dreams. The emerald ring he’d given her, chosen because it reminded him of her eyes, glimmered as she flexed her fingers.
She had clearly raced to him, tousled and breathless, the worn fabric pulling taut across the ripe swell of her breasts as she fought for air. Heat shot through him, desire a living thing, until a flicker of fear cut sharp and cold.
What if she’d come to say she’d changed her mind?
He steadied himself on the scarred oak desk before rising. Beyond his office stretched the cavernous main room, lantern light casting long shadows over towering stacks of crates, the faint scent of pitchand iron from the day’s work lingering in the air. Even at this late hour the building felt alive, which he loved.
Halting in place, Louisa’s eyes widened. “It’s remarkable,” she murmured, wonder edging her voice. “From the street it looks ready to fall in on itself, but inside it’s a cathedral.”
“I agree, it’s a most unusual space.” Stalling for time, Dom gave a short shrug, his gaze following hers. Truly, whatwasshe doing here? “Tobias Streeter, a cunning young man in our employ, has more ideas than we know what to do with. The place wouldn’t run half so well without him, so we tolerate his modifications. His latest is to paint the beams a rather startling shade of crimson.”
“That would be something,” she said, her eyes lifting to the soaring ceiling.
“I’m afraid to ask, but I feel I must. You didn’t come to Shoreditch alone, did you?”
With a shrewd smile, she stepped closer, halting when her hip struck the desk. Her scent—something floral, perhaps posies—drifted past, curling around him like an invisible snare.
Dom didn’t move, wasn’t going to touch her if she was here to reject him. He had a small shred of self-respect where this untamed chit was concerned. And if his cock was as stiff as those beams Streeter wanted to decorate, she didn’t need to know it.
“Your brother brought me. He’s in his carriage out back. I thought to find you at his terrace, but he said you keep late working hours, too many of them.” Louisa tossed a glance at the clock sitting haphazardly on a crate. “We have ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes forwhat?”
Instead of answering right away, she considered him with an intensity that sent a prickle of discomfiture dancing along his spine. He moved to banish it by smoothing his hand down his shirt (unbuttoned to mid-chest) and over his hair (uncut because she hadn’t wanted it trimmed before the ceremony). He rocked back on his heels, notwanting her to see—not yet, because it seemed one of life’s little intimacies—that he preferred to work in bare feet.
As though she hadn’t already unraveled him enough, she leaned in, fingertip skating along his jaw. Heat pooled low, a knot of hunger and anticipation that bordered on pain. The clock ticked, each second mocking him: kiss her or perish.
He braced his fists on the desk to keep from following the chant in his head. “Lou.”
“I had to talk to you, it couldn’t wait.” Her smile tilting, Louisa recorded his bafflement with amusement, her jade eyes glittering in the lamplight. He’d have to be careful, or she’d realize not only the things he wanted to share and the things hedidn’t. Of all his foibles, letting others see his tells hadn’t been one of them—until now.
For a long moment, breathless and bright, she searched his face for revelations he didn’t have the courage to voice.
“Why did you do it, Dominic?” she finally whispered, the question nearly lost to their shared captivation. “Why give me control over part of my dowry? No man marries to make such an offer. My father told me this evening, and paired with the notation about my continuing chemistry endeavors, he’s convinced I’ll ride roughshod over you.Some fearsome spouse your intended is,were his exact words.”
Ah, Dominic thought with a liberating jolt, it should have fucking terrified him. “Instinct told me to return what’s yours. My best decisions come from the gut,” he said, torn between the urge to tell her everything and the stronger need to keep a part of himself hidden. “I’ve personally made enough in the past year to live comfortably. However, what I lost for the viscountcy requires a portion of your funds, but not all. I’ll eventually double what I’ve taken. I’m skilled at commerce, I’ve come to find.”
Glancing down, he dragged his shoulder across his chin, this last piece one he’d been thinking about a lot. “Or save your portion for our children, placed in trusts, it’s up to you.”
Sighing softly, she laid her hand on his chest, squarely over his beating heart. “You are a fascinating contradiction, Mr. Beckett.”
“Don’t let curiosity rule just yet,” he murmured, the world narrowing to the whisper of their breaths and the frantic pulse ringing in his ears.
“What if,” she murmured, her eyes glowing.
