Page 56 of The Hellion is Tamed
Simon Alexander was making a name for himself, one all his own.
Finn had likely asked after his little brother’s health four times before they hit Tavistock Square, making Emma smile as she gave the windowpane a light tap. His family loved him and treated him as a boy even as Simon approached the wizened age of thirty. That might not change, a fact she’d accepted, but he hadn’t. The brothers' Alexander also thought it marvelously amusing that Simon had chosen to cycle between such disparate lives. Elected official; gaming hell owner.
Julian was elated, Finn appalled.
Little did they realize, but her husband was determined to change the world.
Starting with his tiny, downtrodden piece of it.
After she and Simon had promised to do so on the night of their wedding, lying in a naked tangle in the bed upstairs, they’d immediately set out to fulfill that promise.
To each other—and themselves.
Supernatural gifts were of little use if the gift wasn’t shared. Their work had given life meaning.
“If you’re standing by the window, he’ll know you were waiting for him. The nurturing is starting to drive him mad, dear.”
Emma turned, having forgotten for a moment that Josie was sitting by the hearth in the corner of the warehouse fashioned as an office. “Oh, you’re right,” she whispered and hurriedly crossed the room to settle behind a gilded bronze writing table Simon had gifted her last Christmas, as the ink-spattered one she’d been using had rocked with each movement on its wholly uneven legs.
They heard Simon before they saw him. Heardthem, Emma thought, her heart near to bursting as Simon strolled through the arched brick doorway with his hands full of boy.
Arthur looked just like him, a replica right down to the dent in his cheek. Except for her son’s startlingly blue eyes, her contribution. Aside from birthing him, of course. Her joy at seeing them together was enormous. Simon was a wonderful father, striving to be the man his birth father hadn’t been—and everything that Julian and Finnwere. He couldn’t stand to be away from Arthur for even an afternoon. He’d carry him to his quarters at the Blue Moon every day if she’d allow it.
Simon tossed Arthur over his shoulder, the boy squealing and kicking his legs in delight. “Josie,” he said with a salute of his hand. Then straightway, her husband was before her, wrapping his hand around the nape of her neck and drawing her up and into his body, issuing a brief, blistering kiss that left her breathless. “Later,” he whispered in her ear.
The heat of his promise sank through layers of fine wool and muslin to warm her in places only he knew how to appease.
Pulling back with a wicked gleam in his chestnut eyes, Simon winked.
“Papa, present,” Arthur beseeched in his sing-song voice, yanking on his father’s coat and leaving a chocolate smudge on the sleeve. Just two years of age, he expected a present any time an adult entered his vicinity.
Laughing, Simon shifted Arthur in his arms, tunneled his hand in his trouser pocket, coming up with a piece of peppermint and a silver matchbook case. He handed the candy to his son and, with a swift glance at his wife, worked the case beneath the edge of his sleeve with a magician’s ease.
Emma sighed and held out her hand, tapping her slipper on the polished planks.
Shifting from one foot to the other, Simon muttered beneath his breath but, in the end, relinquished the case. “Lyons, the MP I met with, won’t miss it. Interesting thistle pattern etched on the front that I couldn’t resist. Good hinge, too. Doesn’t stick like mine.”
“I thought we’d agreed about the larceny.” She slipped the case in her skirt pocket, embellishments to her gowns Madame Hebert had created for instances like these. “Elected officials don’t go around stealing things.”
“Hungry,” Arthur mumbled around a mouthful of peppermint.
Josie rose to her feet, her arms outstretched. “Let me. I know just what he likes for a snack. Apple slices and buttered bread.” She swiveled so only Emma could see her and mouthedtell him.
Simon placed his son on the floor and gave his bottom a swat. “I’ll be in for a story, Artie, after your snack.”
“The tiger one,” Artie said, his hand tucked in Josie’s as they strolled from the room.
“Indeed, the tiger one,” Simon murmured, his gaze fixed lovingly on his son. When they were alone, without a word, he pressed Emma back two steps into the wall, slanting his mouth over hers. “It’s been too long since we’ve made love. I’m frantic for you.”
Emma grinned, breaking the kiss. “Simon Alexander, it’s been two days.”
He nibbled on her jaw, then moved to a sensitive spot below her ear, eliciting a frayed groan from her. “Frantic.”
“I have something to tell you.” Her head dropped back as he rolled her earlobe between his teeth and sucked lightly. “I can’t think when you do this.”
Her tone must have alarmed him because he froze, his hands falling to his sides. “Hargrave?” he asked in a feral voice.
Emma bracketed his jaw between her palms and kissed him softly, calming him. “Not once since you let him know the League would never let him go if he didn’t letmego. This is good news. Incredible news. Only the second time I’ve been so blessed news.”