“It suited me at the time. And I have Archie. As far as I am concerned, I would not change a thing.”
Dorian shook his head and kissed her forehead. “You are a remarkable woman.” Not just anyone would be so understanding and forgiving—especially when such proclivities were considered a crime in England.
Behind the shock of the revelation came the odd relief that Amelia hadn’t loved her husband. It had been a symbiotic relationship, nothing more.
It made Dorian’s chest feel remarkably buoyant.
Eventually, the twoof them reluctantly rose and dressed. Dorian escorted Amelia to her chamber, placing lingering kisses on her lips before dragging himself away. She watched him saunter away with that lazy grace of his before unlocking her chamber and slipping inside. She was greeted with a very accusatory glare from Faye, who’d curled up in the center of her bed.
“Do not look at me like that,” Amelia scolded lightly and flopped down on the mattress beside the dog. Faye snuffled her hair and she scratched the dog’s scruffy head in return. “Oh, Faye. I made a terrible mistake those years ago.” Faye licked her ear. “You are correct. I wound up with you and Archie, but a part of me cannot help but wonder…”
There was a light scratch at the door.
Shooting to her feet, Amelia threw off her wrapper and dove beneath the coverlet just as her maid slipped into the room. She greeted Amelia and tossed open the drapes to help her prepare for the day.
At the breakfast table, Amelia decided she was fine with missing her morning ride—they’d be riding to the loch later, after all. She yawned into the back of her hand, opening her eyes to find Dorian standing in the doorway and watching her with a knowing, self-sure look on his face. She rolled her eyes, trying tohide her smile as she dropped a lump of sugar into her tea. He crossed the room and assumed the seat beside her while a plate was filled from the sideboard and his tea was poured.
“I take it you had a pleasant sleep?” he inquired innocently enough, never looking up from the letter the butler had presented to him on a silver salver.
“I did, thank you.” She waited until he took a sip of his tea before adding beneath her breath, “I did hear some strange noises—a bit like a randy goat. Did you hear them as well?”
Dorian spluttered and gasped as he choked on his tea.
She gave a small smile and set down her napkin. “Please excuse me, but I must handle some papers in my study.” She stood and called to Faye, who followed her out the door and down the hallway.
Amelia stood ather desk, rifling through stacks of papers, cursing when she couldn’t find the one she was looking for. She was annoyed that she’d allowed herself to become so distracted that her correspondence had suffered.
She barely heard the door to her study open and was more alerted by Faye’s movement. Amelia looked up to find Dorian closing the gap between her desk and the door, an intense, predatory look on his face as he prowled closer.
“Dorian?” The papers dropped from her fingers as he spun her to face him fully.
His kiss was immediate, claiming, and filled with sensual promise.
“You little minx,” he growled. “Surely, you must know what you do to me.” She gasped when he cupped her bottom, holding her flush against the firm ridge of his arousal. “Do you want to know what I thought the first time I saw you at this desk?” He kissed her again, turning her knees into things no more substantial than bath suds. “I admired what aself-assured, intelligent woman you’ve become. And then,” he grinned wickedly and turned her away from him, “I could not stop thinking how badly I wanted to bend you over it.”
He proceeded to press her forward; she placed her palms on the desktop. Before she could protest, he expertly hiked up her skirts and caressed her through her drawers, forcing her legs apart with his knees. She gave a delighted gasp as he reached around and stroked her through the slit in her drawers, praising her for the dampness he found there. It was naughty. It was thrilling.
Behind her, she felt him tugging at the falls of his breeches and freeing himself before sliding home in one sure thrust. Amelia moaned as he thrust, hard and fast, all while stroking the pearl of her sex.
When Amelia came, it was hard and sudden, blinding in its intensity. She bit her lower lip so hard to keep from crying out that she thought she might draw blood.
And when Dorian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back flush to his front as he gave three more deep, grinding thrusts and emptied himself inside of her, she crested once more from the sheer joy of hearing his groan of release and feeling the pulses of his hot seed as he filled her.
When they were done, Dorian helped right her skirts and fixed his breeches. Still breathing heavily, he dropped down to the chair and pulled her with him. He nestled her into his lap, cradling her closely against his pounding heart, gently pressing his lips to her damp temple.
“I don’t think I shall ever have enough of you,” he breathed.
Amelia closed her eyes and clutched his lapel as he held her.
This.
This was what her life had been missing.
This man, this closeness, this tenderness, this passion. She’d had it all once, and it had slipped through her fingers to leave herfeeling as if she’d dreamt it all. She was wise enough to realize not everyone found all of this in one person; she knew it was rarer still to have two chances. She’d be a fool to allow it to slip away again, wouldn’t she?
A thought suddenly occurred to her—one that should have were her mind in any state of rationality and not consumed by the rosy haze of desire Dorian seemed to unleash whenever he was near—and she barely resisted pressing a palm to her abdomen. Amelia was a widow and a mother; she knew how new life was created. It was entirely possible that she and Dorian had, in their activities over the preceding twenty-four hours, done just that. No precautions had been taken to prevent conception…none in the slightest. It probably should not have, but the thought of a baby left her feeling nothing but elation. She’d so longed for more children, and the idea that Dorian would be their father made her experience a blushing warmth across every bit of her skin.
Alongside this came the realization that she trusted Dorian. Whether it was the care and kindness he’d shown to Archie, the raw and honest conversations she’d shared with him, or his confessions, but she had only hope for what had been resurrected between them.
