Page 24 of The Spinster’s Secret Stake (Ladies of Opportunity #2)

TWENTY FOUR

Blackheath Cottage entrance

Two blinks later…

Perhaps today .

“Would you like tea or perhaps something more substantial?” Roxina asked. “I baked bread and gingerbread this morning.”

What time had she arisen to have baked and gardened already?

Did she, like him, have trouble sleeping?

Did thoughts of him keep her awake at night, just as thoughts of her kept his slumber at bay?

“Not now.” Shelby shook his head. “I have something important to discuss with you first.”

When her features didn’t fall into the neutral, shuttered expression she usually reserved for him, his heart soared with encouragement. A new openness, a welcomeness she had never shared before lit her face, softening the sharp lines of her usual guarded demeanor.

“Well, do come into the sitting room.” Roxina glanced at the hallway mirror as she led the way down the narrow corridor. “Oh, my goodness! Why didn’t you tell me I had dirt on my face, Shelby?”

Cheeks blooming with color, she rubbed furiously at the mark.

Shelby found her self-consciousness adorable.

“Because, Roxina, even with smudges on your face, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

She ceased swiping the smear.

Surprise flitted across her face before delight softened her features, and a pleased smile arched her mouth, revealing a rare, unguarded joy.

Had no one ever told her she was beautiful before?

After leading him into the sitting room, she motioned toward a green settee, the style several decades old.

He chuckled, sweeping his gaze over the profusion of verdant hues. “I take it the previous owner had a fondness for green?”

She laughed, unfettered and unrestrained—the first time he had ever heard her laugh freely—and his soul soared.

“How can you tell?” Mirth danced in her chocolaty eyes. “It’s everywhere! Even the china.”

The last vestiges of Shelby’s heart tumbled to lie at her feet.

He already loved her, adored her, cherished her.

But this happy, lighthearted Roxina?

For her, he would capture the wind and bottle the dawn, scale the heavens to snatch a comet from the sky, and pluck the stars to weave into her silky tresses.

“Please, have a seat,” she invited, perching on the edge of a chair herself, like a timorous songbird, ready to take flight.

Settling at her feet, Dash gazed at Shelby as if the dog knew he had something important to impart to his mistress. The animal tilted his head, ears twitching as though he, too, anticipated a momentous revelation.

As Shelby lowered himself onto the settee, the mantel clock wheezed the tenth hour like a dying asthmatic, clanging out its blaring chime with more determination than grace.

“Good God! Does the beastly thing always sound like that?” He cast it a disparaging glance. “I cannot decide if it is in the throes of death or if it is protesting my presence?”

“Unfortunately, it does always chime so horrifically. It gave me quite a fright the first time it chimed.” Casting the clock a dubious glance, Roxina wrinkled her nose. “Hideous, isn’t it? But I do not feel I have the right to tuck it away.”

Shelby grunted, refraining from suggesting what he would do with the thing.

Sable curls catching the sunlight filtering through the lace curtains, Roxina cocked her head.

“I’m glad you came, Shelby.”

“I am too.” He gave her a tender smile.

Glancing at her hands, she fiddled with the fabric of her skirt, twisting a small fold between her fingers. “I have something I wanted to say to you.”

Shelby shifted on the flattened cushion, the scent of lemon polish and old books filling his senses.

Roxina kept the charming cottage as tidy as a pin.

“And I have something I want to say to you too, Roxina.”

They studied each other across the short distance, communicating without words—a scintillating, sensual undercurrent, unspoken but undeniable nevertheless.

“As I’m always a gentleman,” he jested, “I must insist—ladies go first.”

Grinning, he waved his hand in a magnanimous flourish.

For a second, she appeared uncertain, grazing her bottom lip between her teeth before she shook her head. “No, you’ve come all this distance. I’m sure yours is more important.”

Shelby cleared his throat.

He had already told her he loved her once before. Her response had been less than enthusiastic. Perhaps he should let her speak first.

“Say what you need to say, Roxina. I shall listen and not interrupt. You have my word.”

Leaning back, he crossed his legs and brushed his fingertips across the brim of his new beaver hat, feigning a casualness he did not feel. His pulse drummed against his ribs, anticipation a knot in his stomach.

Would today be the day she finally saw him as more than her brother’s friend? Her protector? Would she allow herself to love him as he loved her?

As if impatient with their polite dawdling and urging them to proceed, Dash gave a soft chuff.

Drawing in a sharp breath, she stopped fidgeting.

“Actually, I have two things I need to tell you, Shelby.”

She fell silent, her countenance contemplative.

The sunlight filtering through the curtains cast an ethereal glow upon her.

Shelby remained silent as Roxina wrestled with her thoughts.

At last, she raised her straightforward gaze to meet his.

“When you told me you loved me at Fernleigh House, and I said I didn’t know how to reply, that wasn’t entirely true. I did know, but I was afraid.” She formed a fragile smile and shook her head once. “No—I was more than afraid. I was utterly terrified to acknowledge that I loved you too.”

Shelby made a harsh sound in his throat and balled his feet into his boots to keep from leaping up and hauling her into his arms to shower kisses over her beloved face and tempting mouth.

He fisted his hands, straining every muscle to remain rooted where he sat.

It doesn’t matter, my precious love.

Nothing matters except that we love each other.

The urge to claim her lips, to silence her confession with the fervent depth of his love, coiled in his chest like a serpent poised to strike. He willed himself to remain still, drawing a ragged breath as her words wrapped around his heart like a silken ribbon.

“I know I hurt you, Shelby, and I am ever so sorry.”

She fiddled with the fabric covering her lap. “The truth is—and I’m ashamed to admit this, but I would have honesty between us—I used my disdain and animosity toward you to protect my heart because I couldn’t let myself love someone I felt had betrayed me by being my brother’s cohort.”

Shelby tightened his jaw as he fought the impulse to reach out and still her restless hands, desperate to assure her she need never protect her heart from him again.

God above, she was finally saying the words he’d longed to hear for so many wretched months— years —and he could do nothing but sit there, paralyzed by the torrent of hope and longing crashing over him.

A bead of sweat crept down his temple, and he swallowed hard, struggling to master his composure when he wanted nothing more than to yank her against him and kiss every remaining fear from her soul.

“And now, Roxina?”

Shelby bathed her with a loving gaze, not caring that she could see his adulation.

He, too, had hidden his adoration for too long.

She shaped her mouth into a fragile smile, her lips raspberry red from where she had nibbled them in her nervousness.

His heart wrenched at the sight, a fierce ache swelling within him that almost made him groan aloud. He forced his hands to remain in his lap, though he ached to cup her flushed cheeks.

Lifting her chin, she met his questioning gaze straight on.

“But now, Shelby, I’m not afraid to admit my feelings. To confess that I love you—unashamedly, entirely, unequivocally, and without regret.”

Shelby’s self-control shattered.

“Roxina.”

One word, a cry from his soul.

He leaped to his feet and hauled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair.

She smelled of sunshine and honeysuckle, of spices, and Roxina.

He whispered her name, the sound a reverent prayer as he pressed his lips to her temple. Splaying his hands firmly against her back, Shelby held her as if she might slip away if he loosened his grip even a fraction. The sensation of her lush body molded to his set a fire in his veins, every inch of him searing with need and love.

He brushed his lips over her forehead, trailed soft kisses along her cheeks, and finally claimed her mouth. Time slowed as, at last, he tasted her lips in a blissful kiss, their sweetness dissolving every remaining shred of his restraint.

Roxina kissed him back with equal fervor, winding her hands around his neck and drawing him closer as if she couldn’t bear a hair’s breadth between them.

He deepened the kiss, tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue, tasting the lingering hint of Pekoe tea and something uniquely Roxina.

“My darling, how long I have waited to hear you say those words.” Shelby’s voice cracked as he struggled to rein his emotions under control. “And while I never gave up hope that someday—perhaps—you could come to love me, I didn’t know if I dared ever believe it would be so.”

Eyes shining with unshed tears and her mouth trembling, Roxina angled her head upward. “For all the risks I took with the Ladies of Opportunity , I never dared take a risk myself until I staked my heart on you and your love.”

“I’ve heard of your secret society.”

Her eyebrows shot skyward.

“Jack Matherfield told me in confidence, though not the details,” he said. “I would like to hear more about it later.”

“Yes.” She cupped his cheek, and Shelby pressed his face into her soft palm. “I shan’t have secrets between us.”

“My love has belonged to you for longer than I can remember.” Resting his forehead against hers, his heart pounded so violently that he feared Roxina might hear. He traced his thumb over her cheekbone.

“I am wholly yours, Roxina—every breath, every thought, every aching desire. My heart beats for you alone, my soul belongs to you, and every inch of my body craves your touch. You own my dreams and my fears, my strength and my vulnerability. My devotion, my loyalty, my very essence—everything I am and I shall ever be—is yours. I exist solely to love you.”

A happy tear slid from the corner of one eye. Sweeping her mouth into a radiant smile, Roxina laughed, breathless and lilting. “And I’ll surrender none of it. You’ll find I’m quite greedy that way.”

“Excellent,” Shelby whispered, his voice husky with raw emotion. “Because I’ll never give it to anyone else.”

With that, he captured her mouth once more, determined to pour every ounce of his devotion into the kiss. He grazed his lips across hers, slow and unhurried, letting her feel the depth of his need and the promise of his unwavering loyalty. Cradling her face, he traced the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertips as he tilted her head, inviting her to meet him fully.

He tasted her with purposeful intent, savoring the softness of her lips as he coaxed them apart. He slipped his tongue between her lips, seeking and exploring, brushing against hers with a sensual, languid caress.

Her sweetness wrapped around his senses—warm and intoxicating—a flavor that was uniquely hers and undeniably addictive. He deepened the kiss, exploring every contour and curve of her mouth with slow, deliberate movements.

Slipping his hands from her face to her waist, Shelby drew Roxina closer, spreading his palms against her back as if he couldn’t bear even a breath of distance between them. He pressed her against him, feeling the heat of her body and the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath his touch.

A low, primal sound rumbled from his chest, driven by her response—yielding and bold all at once, giving as much as she took.

Shelby slid his hands lower, curving around her delightfully rounded bottom, and he pulled her flush against him, letting her feel the unmistakable evidence of his desire. Heat surged through him, burning away any shred of restraint, and he nipped at her lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from her. He trailed his mouth over the curve of her neck, brushing featherlight kisses along her skin, tasting the faint trace of lavender on her pulse point.

“I need you,” he whispered against her throat, his voice rough and ragged. “Tell me you’re mine—tonight and always.”

More than just passion, the yearning consumed Shelby. It drove him to claim her, to hold her, and never let go. Every kiss, every caress was a vow, an unspoken promise that Shelby would worship her with his body just as wholly as he adored her with his heart.

At a sound from above, Shelby raised his head.

“Roxina?” A man’s frail, hoarse voice threaded down the stairwell.

No, not any man’s voice.

Mitchel Danforth’s.