Page 70 of A Wicked Business

He'd known from the start she would be trouble, and he knew he’d been correct about that without a shadow of doubt. He didn’t care. The realisation no longer scared him. It was the kind of trouble he thrived on; driven by ambition and the desire to change things for the better, to do something with life, with the world. Felix recognised it in her because it burned in him too, but the world was not so kind to women with that kind of drive. He would be, though. He would protect her when she needed it and help her fly as high as she dared, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought of that, so long as the two of them were happy.

She ran to the window and gazed down at the street far below and Felix crossed the room, impatient now. He bent, kissing the elegant arc of her neck and shoulders, painting a delicate pattern with his tongue that made her shiver.

Belinda sighed, leaning back against him and Felix closed his eyes at the sensation of her soft curves pressing against his body. What a damned fool he’d been the first time he’d kissed her, to tell her it was a mistake. He should have accepted her proposal the moment she’d given it, brave girl that she was. Still, better late than never.

“I’m glad everything happened in such a rush,” he told her, his voice low. “And I’m sorry I didn’t run away with you the moment you asked me to marry you.”

“That was very silly of you,” she agreed, turning in his arms. Her lovely eyes gazed up at him and he knew he could look into that fathomless blue for the rest of his days and never tire of it. “But I’m glad now. For Papa has accepted things and Doris and Charlie are getting married next month too, and everything is just p-perfect.”

She gave a little hiccough and pressed her fingers to her mouth.

“Pardon me.”

Felix gave her a stern look. “Should I order coffee?”

“No!” she exclaimed, extricating herself from his arms. She ran to the bed and kicked off her shoes. They flew across the room in opposite directions as she gave a whoop of laughter.

He watched, a stupid grin plastered to his face as she clambered onto the high mattress, skirts rucked up, and almost falling on her face as they tangled about her legs.

“I’m Lady Belinda Knight!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the bed as her skirts billowed around her.

“You’re foxed,” he told her frankly.

“No, just a trifle disguised,” she said in a ridiculously sombre voice, and then fell backwards, arms and legs akimbo.

Felix sauntered over, his heart full of burgeoning emotion for this ridiculous, daring girl who had crashed into his life and changed everything. He gazed down at her, smiling as she reached her arms up to him.

“I’m Lady Belinda Knight,” she said, softly this time, a little shyly as her eyes gleamed with happiness.

“Well, not quite yet,” he told her with a smile. “But I am about to remedy that.”

“Yes, please, Felix,” she said with a sigh. “Make it so it can’t be undone.”

Felix reached for her foot and clasped her ankle, running a finger down her instep.

She squealed and kicked but he held her fast. “Ah, ticklish. I shall remember that later,” he told her, before grasping her hands and pulling her back to her feet.

“Turn around, you saucy minx. I must undo this lovely dress before I can do anything else.”

She laughed and fidgeted as he undid an endless parade of buttons and ties, looking over her shoulder and giving him advice he really didn’t need but pretended to follow.

“Stop squirming,” he scolded as she tried once more to look at what he was doing. “There!”

Her corset fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it and then, before he could reach for her, climbed back onto the bed. Her chemise fluttered as she moved, giving him a tantalising glimpse of bare thigh and stocking tops that made his mouth go dry.

“Well, hurry up!” she admonished, flapping her hands at him.

Felix returned an innocent expression. “What?”

“Oh, don’t be dim, you wretched man. You know very well I want you to take your clothes off. Hurry!”

Felix laughed, delighted by her bossiness when he had feared she might be nervous, or even afraid. What a fool to think his headstrong wife might be anything less than brave and bold.

Still, he took his time, not beyond revelling in the heat of her regard, loving the way her eyes grew dark, and her cheeks flushed as he revealed himself to her.

“Oh, Felix, you are beautiful,” she said with a sigh, words which suddenly meant something deeper to him.

He’d been told he was handsome often enough, and knew that women desired him, but to hear it from his wife, to see the admiration in her eyes, was something entirely different, something that made him feel privileged beyond anything he had ever known. She made him feel himself, made him feel as if he was not a lesser reflection of his father’s greatness but a success in his own right. When she looked at him with such esteem, he knew he must be worthy, for no one but a great man could possibly win such a prize as her.