One Scandalous Season by None

One Scandalous Season by None

Author:None
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2021-12-07T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Three

Evan gazed at her. She was even more beautiful now than she’d been earlier, with her tousled blond hair and flushed cheeks. But he had a sinking feeling he’d pushed her too far, too fast. What had he been thinking?

She’d just been so hot, so eager and willing. He’d wanted her beyond reason. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d only wanted to feel. He’d wanted to make her his. And she’d felt…beyond perfect.

Now, though…there was no choice but to think.

He watched her carefully, hoping to hell he hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Because he already wanted her again. He wanted her tonight, tomorrow, for Christmas and beyond. He had the feeling he’d never stop wanting her.

He sensed her withdrawal in the closed language of her body, in her clasped hands and the tight line of her lips.

No. He couldn’t let her slip through his fingers. He’d allowed it before, because they’d both been young and he didn’t know better. But now he was home, he was in England to stay, and Amelia was here, too. He’d known her all her life, but she was a woman now, and more than the girl he’d once admired. She was beautiful, intelligent, passionate—everything he’d ever wanted in a woman.

They were trapped in this tiny room for at least one night. He’d make the most of it.

He lowered himself beside her on the bed and took her hand in his own, turning it over and tracing the lines on her palm. Her hand was small and delicate, with short, clean nails, and no calluses or any other marks upon it.

She was a lady, the daughter of an earl. Privileged from birth.

“When we were children, I always thought you to be so far above me,” he murmured.

She jerked in surprise, but he continued, closing his hand over hers. “When I was ten years old, I informed my mother that I would marry you.”

Amelia went stiff and still beside him, and he continued, “She laughed and told me that you were the eldest daughter of an earl; that your father would surely want to marry you to a man with a title, not a mere gentleman, which was all I was destined to be.”

Amelia huffed out a breath. “I did end up marrying a gentleman.”

“Yes.” Part of the reason the news had hurt him so much. He’d felt betrayed to learn that the man she’d ultimately married was no higher on the social ladder than he was. He turned to her, studying her as he asked, “Why?”

“Why didn’t I marry someone with a title?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged. “I was Pudge.”

“Amelia—”

She stared at his hands covering hers in her lap as if they held the mysteries of the world, and gave a humorless laugh. “It’s true. I was Pudge, and everyone knew Pudge was unworthy. No titled gentlemen spared me a second glance during my London Season, and I didn’t want to be forced to endure another. So I married Edmund Witherspoon, who was far past his prime and lame and who had a bad heart.



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