LOGINThe bag was already halfway out of my hand when Victoria’s fingers closed around the top of it.
I watched her start to pull it open, my heart slamming so hard I could feel it in my throat, and for one long, terrible second I had no idea what I was going to say. There was nothing to say. There was no version of the truth that wouldn’t end with her tea
“Please, Amelia. Don’t go.”The words stopped me before I reached the door.I turned slowly to face him. For a moment I simply stood there looking at him, trying to make sense of the sudden shift. Only seconds earlier his question had made me feel small and exposed, as if he were looking at me and seeing something cheap, something less than the person I had tried so carefully to present. The humiliation of it had still been sitting heavy in my chest when I turned to leave. And now he was asking me to stay. He had said please. The word itself felt strange coming from him. Leonardo Moretti did not strike me as a man who used that word lightly. Hearing it directed at me after everything that had just passed between us left me momentarily unable t
Amelia’s povThat knock on my door brought me back to my senses.I had been sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, knees pulled up, face buried in my arms for so long that the skin on my cheeks felt tight and raw. The sound cut through the haze of everything that had just happened in the painting room, the necklace, the hug, the way he had pulled away and left with those flat words. For a moment I stayed completely still, hoping whoever it was would simply walk on. The knock came again, softer this time, but persistent enough that I knew they were not leaving.I pushed myself up slowly. My legs felt unsteady. I wiped at my face with the heels of my hands, though I knew it would do little to hide the evidence of how hard I had been crying. When I opened the door, one of the staff stood in the hallway. She was older than most of the others I had seen in the house, graying hair pulled back neatly, posture upright b
I bent down until my mouth was close enough to her ear that I could feel the faint warmth of her skin against my lips. The air between us felt thinner than it should have. My voice came out low, rough, and deliberate, each word shaped carefully so she would not miss a single one.“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”I stayed there for a long moment after the last word left my mouth, close enough that I could sense the small shift in her breathing even if I could not yet see her face. I wanted the warning to settle into her. I wanted it to press against whatever reckless idea had brought her to this point. Part of me expected an immediate reaction, a flinch, a step back, a quick intake of breath that would tell me she finally understood the weight of what she was inviting. I had spent most of my adult life reading people in rooms far more dangerous than this one. Men with more power and more to lose had
I was surprised by the knock.Who could be knocking on my door?My staff wouldn’t dare to knock at this time of the night because it was getting pretty late. The house had settled into that deep, expensive quiet that only came after a party had been cleared away and Victoria had left for the week. No one should have been moving through the halls.I asked who it was.Then I heard her tiny voice.“It’s me. Amelia.”Immediately I rushed to open the door.The second the latch turned and the door swung inward, she was there. Still in the black dress from earlier, the necklace I had fastened around her throat resting against her skin like a quiet claim. Her hair was a little less neat than it had been in the painting room. Her eyes looked larger in the low light of the hallway.The moment she stepped in I closed the door behind her. Something in me wanted to hold her and tell her I was sorry for leaving her the way
Leonardo’s POVThe moment her body touched mine I felt a spark like adrenaline rushing through my veins. It was sharp and sudden, starting where her cheek rested against my chest and spreading outward until every nerve seemed to wake at once. Her arms locked around my back. The soft press of her against me. The faint scent of whatever perfume she wore rising between us. I could not move at first. I could only stand there and feel it.What is this feeling? Why is her touch having so much effect on me?I had been touched before. I had held women, kissed them, shared beds with them when it suited the moment and meant nothing the next day. None of it had ever felt like this. None of it had ever stopped the rest of the world the way her simple hug stopped it now. I could not feel anything around me. There was only her. The slight tremble in her arms. The way her breath warmed the front of my shirt. The quiet stre
Amelia’s POVA few minutes of silence stretched between us while I still held him. My arms stayed locked around his back, my cheek pressed against the solid front of his shirt. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the faint warmth of his body seeping through the fabric. The painting room stayed quiet except for the soft sound of our shared air. I did not move. I did not speak. I only stood there, holding on, afraid that if I loosened my grip even a little the moment would end.Then I felt it. His arms tightened around me. The pressure was careful at first, then firmer, as if something inside him had finally decided to answer the contact instead of simply accepting it. One of his hands rose and settled against the back of my head. His fingers moved slowly through my hair, stroking once, then again, the motion gentle and deliberate. The touch sent a fresh wave of heat down my spine. I closed my eyes







