Page 105 of The Perks of being a Duchess
Willow felt a smile spreading across her face. “You shall have to tell me about this word and how you have come to appreciate it.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “I am looking forward to doing just that.”
“Wait a minute,” Poppy interrupted their spell. “Can we please revisit the part where a husband falls in love with his wife and all that?”
“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. “I’d like to revisit that too.”
“Was I not clear enough?” Ambrose asked. A grin broke out on his face.
“Not nearly clear enough,” Willow proclaimed.
“Then I shall be clearer,” he murmured and dropped his head to take her mouth in an achingly sweet kiss. A kiss that conveyed much more than words.
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes burning into hers. “I love you.”
Willow sighed, content. “I might have gathered as much.”
He arched a brow. “You did?”
“Your set of rules, I read them. But honestly, Ambrose,” Willow teased. “I haven’t a clue how to read blank pages.”
“I’ll help you. They read: My heart belongs to you, and always will.”
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. It felt like her heart would simply explode right there on the stairs. Sweet Mary. Her husbandtrulylovedher. He had given up his rulesfor her.
How was she supposed to respond to that? This was no small thing. Of course she loved him back. And now that he’d told her the truth of what happened with Holly, now that he’d given up his rules, there was nothing to hold her back from flying into his arms.
“Do you love me, Willow?” he asked when she only stared at him, at a loss for words.
“Of course she does!” Poppy exclaimed with exaggeration. “It’s the most obvious thing in the world.”
“Botheration, Poppy! Must you be so forward!” Willow chastised, though she nevertheless found herself grinning up at Ambrose. “But she might be right.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Dashwood thundered, filing into the hall, along with the rest of her family.
Another botheration!
A low growl deep in Ambrose’s chest was the only warning she received before she was swung up in her husband’s arms, him ascending the stairs two at a time.
“Where the hell is the bride and groom?” Dashwood snapped behind them. “And where are those two rushing off to in such a hurry?”
“Take the third room to the left,” Poppy called out after them, her laughter following them up the stairs.
