She smiled. “I warn you, you may regret it.”
He leaned closer, eyes locked with hers. “I don’t know what tomorrow holds. But I know who I want to face it with.” He paused. “May I kiss you now?”
She nodded, her voice caught in her throat.
And then he kissed her—gently at first, reverently, then with deep, unmistakable certainty. And as his lips moved over hers, Theodosia felt her world shift once more.
But this time, it was not falling apart.
It was falling into place.
Their moment was cut short as the coach suddenly lurched forward, the wheels groaning and the horses’ hooves clattering on the road as the carriage resumed its course.
Richard broke the kiss, his breath warm and uneven against her cheek. He didn’t pull away entirely but leaned in until his forehead rested gently against hers.
“I told the driver to turn the coach around if I didn’t emerge straightaway,” he murmured. “I wasn’t entirely certain how this conversation would end.”
Theodosia’s lips curved with quiet amusement, her heart still pounding. “I think it went rather splendidly, all things considered.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dancing with mischief and something far more tender. “That it did,” he agreed. “But now I find I am not particularly inclined to continue talking.”
“I quite agree. Words, at the moment, feel terribly tiresome.”
Her reply had barely passed her lips when he captured her mouth again, this time with less hesitation and far more certainty. His hands gently framed her face, his thumb brushing the curve of her jaw as he deepened the kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and passion, of things that could not be adequately expressed with mere conversation.
And as the coach rocked gently along the road, Theodosia melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his coat, no longer doubting that her place—herhome—was here, in his arms.
