Page 95 of A Touch of Charm
“Then let me explain it for you.” Thea spoke in her governess voice that she’d reserved for Mary, but apparently, the most accomplished orthopedist in London needed a lesson. “I love you.”
He slumped.
“Wait!” She held out her index finger to enumerate the elements of this theory that would make her—make her heart—whole, she hoped. “You love me, don’t you?”
His eyes found hers and glistened with something black as if there were a void only she could fill.
“That’s what I hoped. Good. So it’s a simple equation: a plus b makes—”
“Thea, we’re not variables. There’s no way to recalculate that I’m just not enough.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re just right for me. No other variable—person—that fits into the equation… heart… life, I mean… argh! Andre, why don’t you understand that you are the only one right for me?”
He swallowed hard and looked rueful. His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he didn’t speak.
“The decision is mine. If everyone thinks I have such authority in diplomacy and importance for the kingdom, how is it that nobody thinks I can know my heart enough to decide—with all I am—that it beats for you?”
“Thea,” he rasped, his voice dropping.
“Don’tTheame, Andre! This is between you and me, a man and a woman. If you want me, allowmeto decide to give myself to you.” Her index finger bore into his chest. “You don’t need anybody else’s permission.”
Thea stood in the middle of Andre’s bedchamber, her heart thudding so fiercely she could almost feel it in her throat, and then… she felt something change. Although the room was only dimly lit, the soft flicker of the gas light cast long shadows on the walls; it seemed as bright as if a new dawn had brought on another chapter in her life. The clip-clopping of hooves from the street outside served as a reminder of the world beyond these walls. But there, at 87 Harley Street, they were finally alone, and nothing else mattered.
Andre squared his shoulders as if he’d come to a new realization. He fumbled behind his back, and Thea noticed that he had turned the key in the door, the metallic click echoing in the stillness. He looked at Thea, his dark eyes searching hers for the implicit permission she had already granted with a nod. Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, deftly untying the band that held his white linen shirt together at the neck. The shirt fell open, revealing the expanse of his chest, and the distance between them evaporated.
“Then take what you want and claim me, Your Royal Highness.”
She furrowed her brows.
“I mean it. You’re the princess and my superior. Do with me whatever you wish, for I’m yours with heart and soul and for as long as I shall live. If it is truly your wish—”
“It is.”
He exhaled, and his face brightened into a fleeting smile before his gaze locked on her lips.
“I only wish for you.”
“I’m not much,” he protested.
“You’re everything for me. Forever.”
He seemed unable to contradict her now, but when he pressed his lips against hers, Thea gasped, her mouth parting in surprise and desire. Andre deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring with such deliberate intensity that her knees nearly buckled. Each stroke of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, making her insides clench and tremble.
Andre’s hands roamed up her back, his touch firm and possessive. He pulled her closer, the heat of his body seeping into hers. His scent—clean linen mixed with a hint of sandalwood—invaded her senses, intoxicating her further. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, feeling the silken strands slide between her fingers as she pulled him closer. She wanted him, not merely to claim him, but with a ferocity that she couldn’t explain.
Yet, he seemed to know exactly how to proceed. Every touch and kiss of his was precisely what she hadn’t known she needed, and only he could complete her.
His lips left hers, trailing a path of kisses down her jawline and to the sensitive skin of her neck. Thea’s breath came in short, ragged gasps as he nipped and sucked, leaving a trail of heated sensations in his wake. She arched her neck, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, his mouth working magic on her skin.
Thea’s hands moved to his chest, fingers splaying across the hard planes of muscle. She felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm, mirroring her frantic pulse. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her hands explored the contours of his back, feeling the strength and sinew under the smooth skin.
Andre lifted his head, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her shiver. “Thea,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Are you sure you choose me? Here and now and forever?”
She nodded, unable to form words, her body already answering for her. She wanted this—wanted him—with a desperation that bordered on madness if she were denied.
Andre’s hands moved to the laces of her dress, his fingers working quickly to undo the intricate ties. Thea felt the fabric loosen and slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She stood before him in her chemise, the thin fabric doing little to conceal her heaving chest and the stiff peaks of her nipples under her stays.
He gazed at her, his eyes darkening with hunger. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice laden with reverence and longing.
