“Leah tilted her chin and smiled. “I thought we disliked each other.”“Oh, we do,” he said, taking another sip. “I detest you quite thoroughly. Especially when you smile.”Her lips flattened. “Do you?”He gestured toward her with the drink, the liquid sloshing out the side to drip over his thigh. Leah’s gaze followed the brandy’s path where it darkened on his trousers, then jerked upward again as he spoke. “You’re too bloody happy. It’s very offensive.”

“Sebastian closed his eyes, his chin sinking toward his chest. How long he’d been trapped by those words, afraid to scare her away. How long he’d hoped that after she dealt with Ian’s ghost she would one day turn to him. Her confession of her relationship with Ian while they sat in the tree had been one step, her willingness to let him pleasure her another, and yet still it wasn’t enough. He wanted everything: her trust, her joy, her heart, her vulnerability.”

“You’re very handsome tonight, my lord.”“What’s this? A compliment from the lovely widow?”“A mere observation.”“Why do I suspect that you had too much to drink at dinner?”

“But that isn't the strangest part," Fallon said. He peered down the corridor, as if to make sure Philip wasn't nearby.Then he turned to Charlotte. "He's started thanking me, Your Grace." His beetled eyebrows pulled low. "When I iron the paper, he thanks me. When I announce a visitor, he thanks me. Why, he even thanked me the other day for opening the door. 'Thank you, Fallon,' he says.”

“Slowly, Joaquin leaned in, drawn closer to her against his will. Pursing his lips, he breathed warm air across her cheeks, like animals do when they learn each other’s scent, learn to trust. “Easy now,” he whispered in between the soft puffs of air. “Let go of the fear.”“I can’t,” she said, in a little broken voice that clenched at his heart.“Yes you can.” Joaquin let his lips touch her skin, the merest hint of a contact. She made a tiny sound of alarm, a cross between a sob and a cry. He brushed his mouth against hers. A shudder shook her body, but she pressed into him, seeking his shelter. Keeping his hands braced to the timber, he deepened the kiss. His mouth slanted over hers, bolder now.Her hands rose between them and fisted into his shirt.”

“Oh? And what was I to say? I beg your pardon, Lord Wriothesly, but your wife seems to have acquired a distinct liking for my husband's cock. Would you mind kindly retrieving her to your own bed?”

“Everything you do seduces me. All you need to do is breathe and I would do anything for you.”