His ragged breathing along with the steady, impossible tenderness of his hands.
Beatrice collapsed against him, cheek pressed to the warm skin of his neck, feeling like liquid in the aftermath.
And as she rested, one stunned realization moved through her.
She had never truly believed in this.
Not that her body that could come apart and, somehow, feel more wholly hers than it ever had before.
The thought was too large to hold for long, so she did not try.
She only stayed there, listening to the beat of his heart. That quiet, persistent rhythm. The proof of him beneath her cheek.
She did not know how long they remained that way.
Long enough for the frantic pounding of her own heart to ease. Long enough for the shocking intensity of what had just happened to settle into something softer.
And still—He did not let her go.
He just held her.
And somewhere in that lingering haze of feeling, Beatrice realized that this was how Gideon had always been.
There. Comforting. Helping… With a quiet devotion.
Patient. Supportive.
Safe.
She stirred at last, drawing back enough to look at him properly.
His hair, already disheveled, was thoroughly ruined now. His cravat was all the way loose and his usually composed self nowhere to be found.
And yet, somehow, beneath all that, he was still Gideon.
If not a little warmer, and a little less… guarded.
“This,” she said carefully, “is not why I came here.”
His brows lifted sharply right before a smile tugged at his mouth.
“I didn’t think it was,” he murmured. “Though I have learned to expect the unexpected where you are concerned.”
Despite herself, Beatrice laughed. Or tried to. The sound emerged softer than intended, and perhaps a little breathless still.
“You are well?” he asked.
The simple sincerity in his question seemed to swell inside her heart.
“I think,” she admitted slowly, “I may never be quite the same again.”
He did not say anything right away, his thumb brushing lightly across her wrist where he still held her hand.
Until finally: “I should hope not.”
For a short while, Beatrice let herself sit there with him, her hand in his, pretending there was nothing beyond this room.
This moment.
