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He fisted his hands, straining every muscle to remain rooted where he sat.

It doesn’t matter, my precious love.

Nothing matters except that we love each other.

The urge to claim her lips, to silence her confession with the fervent depth of his love, coiled in his chest like a serpent poised to strike. He willed himself to remain still, drawing a ragged breath as her words wrapped around his heart like a silken ribbon.

“I know I hurt you, Shelby, and I am ever so sorry.”

She fiddled with the fabric covering her lap. “The truth is—and I’m ashamed to admit this, but I would have honesty between us—I used my disdain and animosity toward you to protect my heart because I couldn’t let myself love someone I felt had betrayed me by being my brother’s cohort.”

Shelby tightened his jaw as he fought the impulse to reach out and still her restless hands, desperate to assure her she need never protect her heart from him again.

God above, she was finally saying the words he’d longed to hear for so many wretched months—years—and he could do nothing but sit there, paralyzed by the torrent of hope and longing crashing over him.

A bead of sweat crept down his temple, and he swallowed hard, struggling to master his composure when he wanted nothing more than to yank her against him and kiss every remaining fear from her soul.

“And now, Roxina?”

Shelby bathed her with a loving gaze, not caring that she could see his adulation.

He, too, had hidden his adoration for too long.

She shaped her mouth into a fragile smile, her lips raspberry red from where she had nibbled them in her nervousness.

His heart wrenched at the sight, a fierce ache swelling within him that almost made him groan aloud. He forced his hands to remain in his lap, though he ached to cup her flushed cheeks.

Lifting her chin, she met his questioning gaze straight on.

“But now, Shelby, I’m not afraid to admit my feelings. To confess that I love you—unashamedly, entirely, unequivocally, and without regret.”

Shelby’s self-control shattered.

“Roxina.”

One word, a cry from his soul.

He leaped to his feet and hauled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.

She smelled of sunshine and honeysuckle, of spices, and Roxina.

He whispered her name, the sound a reverent prayer as he pressed his lips to her temple. Splaying his hands firmly against her back, Shelby held her as if she might slip away if he loosened his grip even a fraction. The sensation of her lush body molded to his set a fire in his veins, every inch of him searing with need and love.

He brushed his lips over her forehead, trailed soft kisses along her cheeks, and finally claimed her mouth. Time slowed as, at last, he tasted her lips in a blissful kiss, their sweetness dissolving every remaining shred of his restraint.

Roxina kissed him back with equal fervor, winding her hands around his neck and drawing him closer as if she couldn’t bear a hair’s breadth between them.

He deepened the kiss, tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue, tasting the lingering hint of Pekoe tea and something uniquely Roxina.

“My darling, how long I have waited to hear you say those words.” Shelby’s voice cracked as he struggled to rein his emotions under control. “And while I never gave up hope that someday—perhaps—you could come to love me, I didn’t know if I dared ever believe it would be so.”

Eyes shining with unshed tears and her mouth trembling, Roxina angled her head upward. “For all the risks I took with the Ladies of Opportunity, I never dared take a risk myself until I staked my heart on you and your love.”

“I’ve heard of your secret society.”

Her eyebrows shot skyward.

“Jack Matherfield told me in confidence, though not the details,” he said. “I would like to hear more about it later.”