Page 26 of A Touch of Charm (Miracles on Harley Street #3)

T hea stood stiffly in Andre’s treatment room, her hands folded neatly as though that might calm their trembling. Andre’s treatment room was neat as an operating room—polished wood shelves lined with jars of tinctures, a single vase graced with lavender perched on the windowsill, and the faint aroma of herbs lingering in the air. It felt too ordered, too clinical for the storm that swirled inside her. She leaned forward slightly as Andre moved behind the desk toward the window, when there was a commotion outside.

How had it all unraveled this fast? She had made a mistake—a terrible one—baring her feelings to Mary in a moment of rare weakness. And Mary, well-meaning but utterly tactless, had seen fit to lay them bare to Andre. Thea’s heart clenched, her thoughts a dull roar of panic. What must he think of her now? The runaway princess, flitting through England like a moth lost and without direction—and worse, a wanton woman who had foolishly lost her heart.

But none of that was true and he ought to know.

If he didn’t, she’d tell him.

Nobody had ever looked at her as he had when they’d rolled down the hill in the park abutting the gardens at Cloverdale House. Nobody had ever truly seen Thea—beyond the princess—quite as he had.

No, she wouldn’t hide. She’d decided that when she’d stood in front of the modiste’s looking glass on Regent Street, her back straight even as her hands shook. The silk gown they tailored that day had served as more than adornment. It was a stand—a vow to herself. Hiding had never saved her, not from her past, and most certainly not from her own emotions. But that didn’t make this any easier. Thea wanted, needed, a moment alone. Just the two of them. The weight of her unspoken words pressed against her ribcage, but she couldn’t seem to find a way to begin. Would he listen? Could she explain herself? Her gaze flickered to Andre, who still hadn’t looked at her, and her stomach tightened. She felt as though she were teetering on the edge of a precipice, the silence hanging between them a thread just waiting to snap.

More noise came from outside and Mary joined Andre at his office window to see what was happening.

“Two carriages have arrived!” she announced.

Andre nodded. “Everyone is back.”

“You mean, the nurse is here now?” Mary shouted excitedly. “Miss Folsham?”

Andre gave a friendly nod, and Mary clasped her little hands together in glee. “Can I go speak to her?”

“Of course, if Miss Thea allows it.” Andre’s eyes met hers, and she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Could he feel the same as she did about their time alone coming to an end? The quiet practice has been a refuge, especially with Stan’s watchful eye back at Cloverdale House.

“All the doctors? Everyone is back?” Thea asked, but she could see that Andre understood her question; more people meant no chance to be alone.

A door clicked, and footsteps became audible. There were murmurs of voices and a thump. They were probably carrying their trunks inside.

“Go and introduce yourself to the nurse,” Thea said, eyes glued to Andre’s.

“Her name is Wendy,” Andre added.

Thea opened the door to Andre’s office for Mary, and she eagerly escaped, calling to the people in the hall.

On the other side of the door.

A solid oak structure and walls shielded them but there was just no time.

I’ll make time.

Thea locked the door and left the knob in the keyhole.

“I-I… ahem… I’m sorry about Mary,” Thea started.

“I’m not.”

“She shouldn’t have told you—”

“I’m glad she did. I feel the same.”

Thea’s heart raced as if it tried to jump out and she felt lightheaded—as if she were in a dream and Andre was the only one there with her.

Finally alone.

Andre closed the distance to her but remained silent. His eyes were so dark and hungry that Thea’s heart pounded, she forgot to breathe, her words dissolving into nothing as her gaze locked on Andre’s. He stood just a step away, too close and yet not nearly close enough. The flickering lamplight cast shadows across his face, sharpening the intensity in his dark eyes. His admission echoed in her ears—he felt the same. She wasn’t imagining this incredible, terrifying connection pulling her toward him.

The silence between them hung heavy, charged, her racing heart the only sound she could hear besides the soft crackle of the hearth. Thea’s gloved fingers twisted at her waist as she fought to keep steady, though every nerve in her body thrummed with awareness. Andre moved, bridging the short distance between them in an instant, and her stomach twisted with anticipation. When his hand lifted, his thumb brushing over the curve of her cheek, her whole body stilled at the contact.

“You feel… the way Mary said?” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question, it was permission. His voice low and stirring something deep within her, as though he knew exactly what caused her trembling.

“I do,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, shaky but unhidden.

She didn’t realize she had backed against the door until she felt its hard support on her back, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them. His hand drifted lower, curling lightly around her jaw, tilting her face up, and she closed her eyes for just a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of the gesture. When she opened them again, his gaze softened, but the glint of something far more primal lingered, just beneath the surface.

Then, without another word, Andre’s lips touched hers. Gentle at first, as though testing her resolve. Thea couldn’t suppress the sharp inhale, the shock of it shivering down her spine and settling like a spark of fire low in her belly. His mouth was warm, soft yet insistent, coaxing her to respond. She did, her fingers lifting unbidden to clutch at the crisp fabric of his shirt, holding him as though he might disappear if she didn’t.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving against hers with a slow, deliberate passion that stole the air from her lungs. Thea’s sensation narrowed to the contact—the faint taste of tea on his mouth, the faint scratch of his clean-shave jaw, the unrelenting strength in the firm pressure of his touch as it settled at her waist. Heat blossomed in her chest, spreading outward, until there wasn’t a part of her unaffected by his nearness.

Her knees felt weak, and she leaned into him, into the solidness of his frame, the anchor he provided to her dizzy frenzy of emotion. One of his hands slid upward to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling softly in her hair. Thea tilted her head instinctively to deepen the kiss, a quiet sound escaping her throat that she barely recognized as her own. The treatment room, the jars of tinctures, and even Mary’s meddling all faded into a distant haze.

There was only Andre—his lips, his heat, his strength—and for that singular moment, she allowed herself to be entirely his.

His initial hesitation gave way to a fervent response. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her against him as if anchoring himself to the moment—to her.

He opened his mouth and moved his lips, gently sucking her in, and she gasped into him. He brushed her lower lip with his tongue, and all the questions in her mind were erased. Just like that, he’d answered all of her questions. For all that mattered was that he indeed felt the same.

Oh and how he felt!

The intensity of the kiss deepened, and a rush of emotions surged through her—desire, fear, joy—all blending into a dizzying whirlpool that left her breathless.

This was new for her, and she didn’t expect it, but perhaps the surprise made it much more special.

*

For Andre, the kiss was both a revelation and a surrender.

At that moment, Andre knew he was lost to her. Thea was not just a fleeting passion, a moment of desire to be forgotten. She was everything, the center of his world; the one person who could make him forget all else. He wanted to stay and be with her and lose himself in her completely.

Thea’s hands cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks in a gesture of tender affection. Andre leaned into her touch, his heart swelling with emotions he could not name. He kissed her again, this time with a slow, deliberate passion that spoke of all he felt, all he could not say.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes.

In that fleeting instant, they were no longer two individuals bound by society’s constraints. They were simply two souls finding solace and strength in each other. The future was uncertain, but for now, in this singular, breathtaking moment, they belonged to each other entirely.

And then there was a thud.

Followed by a knock. “Andre?” Wendy called.

“Thea!” Mary added. “I know they are in there,” she mumbled.

“What is going on in there?” Wendy called.

Andre stepped back and let out a heavy exhale.

Thea gave him a humored look, pressing her lips together as if to taste him again.

And he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again. To feel her tender mouth, the heat building for him, and she opened up immediately.

Another knock came from low on the door, near the doorknob. Mary.

Andre put one hand against the door as if the sheer pressure from his arm could keep the world outside at bay, especially the curious girl—and he didn’t mean Mary. Wendy mumbled something behind the door, and then he recognized Alfie’s voice.

He knew he had to go. If he was supposed to keep her safe, hidden, unseen, scandal was not the right way to accomplish that. But he felt an almost magnetic pull to Thea. Her touch was intoxicating. Her soft, blue gown clung to her in a way that caught the light just right, highlighting the perfectly flaring curve of her waist and the delicate slope of her shoulders when he glanced down. But the rosy blush on her face and the pinkness of her swelling lips was more than a declaration of the word he didn’t dare name. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue, seemed to pierce through his resolve, making him question everything he thought he knew. Her movements were graceful and deliberate; it was undoubtedly her first kiss and a silent invitation stirred something primal within him he didn’t want to suppress.

Their breaths mingled as she cradled his cheeks. There was a riveting tension in the air, a palpable anticipation that made his pulse quicken. Thea’s hands moved with gentle certainty, her fingers trailing a line of fire down to his collar. Andre’s heart thundered in his chest as she slid her hands lower, resting on his heart, her tender and commanding touch. He could feel the warmth of her palms, the slight tremor that gave away her rising desire.

Without a word, Thea pressed her back against the door, her body arching slightly as if to meld with his. She pulled him closer, her eyes never leaving his. Andre’s breath hitched; he knew this moment was a precipice, a point of no return. But the look in her eyes, the way she silently asked him to stay, made it impossible to turn away.

“Andre? Are you in there?” Alfie called, but Andre didn’t hear anything else. A murmur of voices in the hall faded as Thea pressed her chest against his, her hands now on his shoulders.

She kept him there. His audience with the princess was in full swing, and she didn’t want anyone to disturb them.

“You have perfumes at the apothecary?” Mary’s voice came muffled from the other side of the door.

“I’m not opening,” Andre whispered into her mouth.

Thea chuckled but didn’t break the kiss.

This was scandalous.

And brilliant.

Then the footsteps grew fainter and withdrew.

For a fleeting moment, Andre smiled, his lips quirking up in a rare expression of pure, unguarded joy. But then Thea’s tongue darted into his mouth, and the world around him vanished. His insides clenched a visceral reaction to the soft, insistent pressure of her kiss. He was lost, utterly consumed by her.

Her taste was a heady mix of sweetness and longing. He responded with an urgency that matched her own. Their kiss deepened even further as his hands roamed her back, feeling the smooth silk of her gown beneath his fingers. He could feel every shift in her body, the way she pressed closer, her fingers tangling in his hair. A faint smell of vanilla and custard from their meal only minutes ago lingered, but there was no room for anything between them. The space around them melted away, leaving only the two in a cocoon of shared desire.

Thea’s back arched further, pressing her hips against his, and Andre’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her even closer. The feel of her against him was exquisite torture, a blend of pleasure and anticipation that set every nerve alight. He could hear the soft gasps of her breath and feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest.

Thea’s fingers traced the line of his jaw, her touch feather-light and teasing. Andre responded with a groan, his hands gripping her tighter. The need to feel her completely overwhelmed him. Her body molded to his, fitting together as if they were made for this moment—for each other.

Thea’s lips left his, trailing a path of fire down his neck. Andre’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as she kissed and nipped at his skin. Every touch was a promise, a declaration of desire that left him breathless.

Andre’s hands moved of their own accord, sliding up her sides to cup her breasts. Thea’s sharp intake of breath spurred him on, his thumbs brushing over the peaks through the thin fabric of her gown. Her reaction was immediate, her body arching into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Thea’s hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, driving him to madness. She was a siren, calling him to abandon all reason, to lose himself in the depths of her passion. Andre’s control slipped further with each passing second, the need to possess her, to make her his, growing unbearable.

“Thea,” he rasped, barely managing a coherent thought.

Their kisses grew fevered. Thea’s nails raked down his back, leaving trails of sensation that made him shudder. He responded by gripping her hips, lifting her slightly to press her more firmly against the door. The feel of her heat, the way her body moved against his, was almost too much to bear.

Andre’s mind was a haze of desire; his world narrowed to the feel of Thea in his arms and the taste of her on his lips. He wanted to devour her, to claim every inch of her, to make her his in every way possible. The room seemed to pulse with their shared heat, the air thick with the scent of longing and arousal.

Thea’s hands slid down to his waist, tugging at the waistband of his trousers, but then she hesitated again. Andre sucked in a breath, his entire body tensing with anticipation. Her touch was both a torment and a blessing, each movement driving him closer to the edge. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire, a silent plea for him to continue, to take her completely.

But this wasn’t the time nor the place.

“Thea?” Stan’s voice came from the other side of the door.

They both froze.

Andre took a significant step back, combing both hands through his hair.

“Are you in there?” Stan’s voice was commanding.

Regal. Dangerous.

She cleared her throat, clutching both hands on her cheeks, but she never stopped looking at Andre. “I’m coming out in a moment.”

“Is Andre with you?”

Andre shook his head. There was nowhere to go. He considered the window. This would have never happened if he had climbed out and walked around the block to return with pastries from the other side.

But it had.

And the thought of denying it made his heart sink.

“Yes!” Thea called back, straightening her back. An expression of certainty washed over her face.

She was all of the princess he knew her to be and the only one there who matched Stan’s rank.

She stood tall, ironed out the folds of her dress, pushed a pin in her hair back up, and suddenly she had the authority to match Stan’s.

“Come out!” His voice thundered.

She put her hand on the key and gave Andre a glance over her shoulder.

He tucked his shirt back into his breeches, walked to his desk, and sat down, hoping the flush of the moment wasn’t visible and that the authority he’d have behind his desk would hide the evidence of his arousal.

They nodded to each other. Thea turned the key.

And Stan stormed in. “What’s going on here?”