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He knew that.
That was why there were fresh bouquets in the house every day.
“I know you do.”
Her hazel eyes grew soft. “Thank you.”
Ophelia flummoxed him by standing on her toes and pressing her velvet, soft mouth to his.
He automatically reached to encircle her, to deepen the kiss, except the damnable basket was wedged between them.
She giggled and stepped away. Holding out her hand for Stan’s, she wiggled her fingers. “I want to show you something amazing.”
Waggling his eyebrows, he took her proffered hand. “How can I say no?”
“You cannot.” Ophelia grinned.
It was true.
Not only had she thoroughly ensnared him—The Dangerous Duke—the former dangerous duke—but also relished it. He certainly didn’t deserve this happiness. Regardless, he’d seize the joy with a vengeance and revel in every second as well.
As they approached the birds’ cage, Ophelia put a finger to her lips. “Shh. They’re quite nervous. I knew something was amiss a few days ago. They’d been behaving most peculiarly. But today was the first time they let me see.”
“Do you always visit the orangery in the morning?” he asked.
She glanced behind her. “Not every day. Just the days I awaken early, and it’s too soon to breakfast with you.”
With you.
Rather than take a tray in her chamber or eat before he joined her, she also waited for him. There wasn’t much of his heart that hadn’t already plopped at her delicate feet, but a piece landed there just the same.
This woman was beyond remarkable.
Motioning to a nearby table, topped with potted red and pink begonias, Ophelia said, “Put the flowers there.”
Stan did so, then quirked a brow. “What is this about?”
She only smiled and led him into the cage. Moving slowly and with care, she unfastened the walk-in enclosure. She entered, and he followed, taking care to secure the latch once more.
“Look,” she whispered, pointing to a straw nest the lovebirds had created.
“Well, I’ll be pickled,” he said, bending over to get a better look.
Viola had laid five brown-speckled ivory eggs. Orsino hovered near his mate, grazing his beak over her head.
“They are going to be parents.” A brilliant smile wreathed Ophelia’s face, and she sounded every bit the proud grandparent.
Wrapping an arm around her slender waist, Stan kissed the top of her head. As always, her essence engulfed him.
“Are we?” he asked.
The words were out of his mouth before he realized it.
“Are we what?” Cocking her head, Ophelia furrowed her brow.
Stan mentally shrugged.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
