Page 55 of The Hellion is Tamed
“Eight letters you could return if you’d like.”
She glanced back, her expression trapped between exasperation and fondness. She looked wonderful in his coat, he decided. “I love you, you daft man. MacDermotandAlexander. I love both equally. I always have.” A flash of fire lit her gaze. “To quote the duchess: we were waiting on the gentleman.”
“You’re going to make a go of it, then? With me? And accept my humble apology for making you wait? This time—and before.”
“Oh, yes, the countess. And her bloody tiara. I may never get over that.” Emma’s shoulders lifted in vexation, relaxed with her decision. When she stepped into his arms, Simon had no choice but to wrap them around her and hold on tightly. “I’m going to make the very best go of it. No matter that you botched it the first time. I’ll even strive to become acquainted with this Josie person since she’s your friend. If I’m going to help you, I have to accept her.”
“You’re not only going to accept her, you’re going tolikeher.”
“We’ll see,” she whispered against his shirtfront. “I’m somewhat possessive of you, I’ve found.”
“Stubborn chit.”
“Arrogant cur.”
Over her head, he watched the sun soar above the red and gold speckled horizon, the wash of color bringing out the amber in her hair, the pinkish flush darkening her skin. He wanted to preserve this moment, place it on canvas to gaze at throughout life.
After a moment, she gave a wiggle in his arms. “Your bed was very comfortable. Quite.”
With a smile, he pressed his chin into the crown of her head and tightened his arms around her. “Do tell.”
“There’s a loose spring in one spot I’d hate for you to hit.” She made a huffing sound and looked up, her eyes as bright as the sapphire in the ring he’d ordered from Julian’s jeweler last week. The one he was picking up tomorrow and hoped she’d like. Because with this woman, he was never entirely sure of anything. Part of, he realized, the attraction. “Unless you’ve shown someoneelsehow comfortable it is already.” She struggled to back away, teeth bared. “I reckon you have. What am I thinking? TheTimeshas written about it, I bet! In that case, I kindly rescind my offer. How’s that for fancy talk?”
Simon bowed forward and laughed until he gasped, clutching his belly and coughing, all the while, her ineffectual fists cuffing his side.
“I haven’t, Em. Stop it. No one. I’ve brought no one here.” He glanced up, barely missing a final swing she’d unleashed. “My bloody family didn’t even know, until Henry dropped us on the corner outside, that I owned a paint factory in a rather troubled neighborhood they wish I could leave behind.”
She poked her finger against her chest, her lips forming a delighted O. “Just me.”
He kissed her brow, drawing the lapels of his coat together at her throat. “Just you. Only you.”
“Well, then.” Taking his hand, she dragged him across the roof, a splash of unspoiled sunlight warming their backs. “What are you waiting for?”
He took the stairs behind her two at a time. “Not a thing, Emma, darling.”
He wasn’t waiting on one bloody thing with his girl ever again.
Epilogue
Three Years Later
Where a Warehouse Has Become a Home
St Giles, London
Emma watched from the window as Simon stepped gingerly down from Finn’s carriage to the cobbled lane, her heart beating faster as it did each time she saw him.
As it would until the day she died.
Love was fierce and, at times overwhelming, seizing her breath and her soul.
But she would never run from love again.
Frowning, she rubbed her thumb across a streak on the windowpane. Simon was still limping; an injury sustained three weeks ago during travel to 1875 to rescue one of Josie’s charges. Emma laughed with a puff that fogged the glass when her husband waved Finn off, scowling as he climbed the front steps, entering the warehouse with a door slam that reverberated through the residence. Their majordomo, Dimitri—hired because a majordomo was required even if one lived on the edge of what society considered civilization—rarely got to the warehouse’s main entrance before Simon muscled his way gracelessly through it.
He was irritated of late, perhaps justly. His brothershadbeen overprotective since Emma had returned with Simon to the Blue Moon following their rescue mission, where he’d proceeded to leave a trail of blood from the alley to his study, then decided, as chaos erupted around him, to elegantly pass out on a vacant settee. Even Henry, who was still around after all these years, had been distraught—or so Simon later told her.
Today was his first trip into the city since the accident, returning to his position as a vestryman for the St Giles District Board of Works. Of course, Finn had decided to swing by the Palace of Westminster to escort him home, where Simon had had an afternoon meeting with an MP he was courting who’d accepted the invitation because of Simon’s last name but would help him because of his ideas and his passion.