Morning After
Light filtered throughthe tall windows, casting a gentle glow over the unfamiliar bedchamber. Amelia stirred, momentarily disoriented by the weight of an arm draped across her waist and the warmth of another body pressed against her back. The memories of the previous night flooded back in a rush of sensation: Charles’ hands on her skin, his mouth claiming hers, the tenderness in his eyes as he’d explored her body.
She tensed, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness and vulnerability. This wasn’t part of their arrangement. And yet she’d surrendered completely to this man who was still, in many ways, a stranger.
Behind her, Charles shifted, his arm tightening around her waist as he drew her closer against the solid warmth of his chest. His breathing remained deep and even. Still asleep, then. Amelia allowed herself a moment to simply feel: the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her back, the gentle puff of his breath stirring her hair, the surprising comfort of being held.
How had they arrived here? From mutual animosity to… whatever this was now?
She needed to think, to regain control of the situation before he awoke. Carefully, she tried to extricate herself from his embrace, only to have his arm tighten instinctively around her waist.
“Where are you running to?” His voice was thick with sleep, thewords rumbling through his chest and into her back.
“I’m not running,” she said, stilling her movements. “I simply need to… prepare for the day.”
A soft grunt vibrated against her skin. “The day can wait.”
Before she could form a response, he shifted, rolling her gently onto her back so he could look down at her. In the early morning light, his face appeared softer, unguarded, the aristocratic mask momentarily set aside. His dark hair fell across his forehead in tousled waves, and the shadow of stubble along his jaw made him look rougher, less polished.
“Good morning, Wife,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
Amelia felt heat creep into her cheeks. “Good morning.”
His gaze traveled over her face, lingering on her mouth before returning to her eyes. “You’re overthinking this already, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she countered, though they both knew it was a lie.
Charles smiled, a genuine expression that transformed his features. “Yes, you do. I can practically hear the wheels turning.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, his touch impossibly gentle. “Stop analyzing, Amelia. At least for a few more minutes.”
The casual use of her given name said with a gentle command sent an odd flutter through her chest. They’d crossed a threshold last night, moved from formal distance to a new, undefined territory. How were they meant to navigate this shift? What did it mean for their arrangement?
“Charles,” she began, uncertain what she even wanted to say.
“Hmm?” His thumb traced the curve of her jawline, the gesture absent-minded and strangely intimate.
“Last night was…” She faltered, searching for the right words.
“Unexpected?” he supplied, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Inevitable? Extraordinary? Masterful?”
“Complicated,” she finished.
He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Ever the pragmatist.”
“One of us should be,” she replied.
His expression sobered slightly as he studied her face. “Do you regret it?”
The question hung between them, weighted with possibilities. Amelia considered her answer carefully. Did she regret surrendering to the passion that had been building between them? Allowing herself to be vulnerable with a man she never thought worthy of her attentions?
“No,” she said finally, opting for honesty.
He shifted, lying on his side and propping himself up on one elbow. “Excellent. I don’t regret a moment.”
Something in his tone made her heart swell with joy, but she carefully kept her voice neutral. “Even though this wasn’t planned?”
“Especially because.” He traced idle patterns on her shoulder, his touch raising gooseflesh on her skin. “Nothing about our marriage has proceeded according to plan. Why should this be any different?”
Before she could respond, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips—brief but tender enough to momentarily silence the doubts swirling in her mind. When he pulled back, his expression had turned more serious.
