Page 38 of The Wallflower’s Great Escape (The Wallflowers’ Revolt #1)

J ason woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains and the faintest weight of her hair across his bare chest.

For a moment, he simply lay still, drinking in the sight of her nestled against him, her breath soft and even, her arm draped across his middle as though it belonged there.

His wife.

Georgiana. Georgie.

His.

And then she stirred, one long leg sliding over his, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blinked open and focused on him.

She smiled sleepily, and it damn near undid him. “Good morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick and husky with sleep.

He grinned lazily. “Good morning,” he echoed, brushing a stray curl from her cheek.

For a few quiet moments they lay like that, neither in any particular hurry to move, the warmth of her body seeping into his as she rested her chin on his chest.

Then she let out a small sigh, her lips curling wickedly. “Honestly, if I’d known it was that enjoyable,” she said slyly, “I would have demanded you take me to bed on our wedding night.”

Jason let out a startled laugh, rolling slightly to pin her beneath him, his eyes dancing.

“Would you now?” he teased, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw.

“Absolutely,” she said, feigning solemnity, though her eyes sparkled.

“You were nearly asleep on our wedding night,” he pointed out dryly.

She sniffed and arched a brow. “I assure you, I would have woken up for that. ”

He chuckled low in his throat, leaning down to kiss her soundly before settling back beside her, their fingers intertwining.

It was perfect.

Or nearly perfect—until she tilted her head and asked softly, “Do you regret that your friendship with my brother seems to be…ruined because of our marriage?”

Jason’s grin faded, replaced by something steadier, more certain.

“Not at all,” he said firmly. Then he glanced down at her, ensuring his gaze was resolute. “In fact,” he added wryly, “I owe you another apology. If I’d known what a horse’s ass your brother was, I would have swept you up and carted you off a long time ago.”

Her breath caught faintly at that, her eyes wide as his thumb stroked gently over her knuckles.

“You’re my priority now, Georgie,” he murmured. “You. Not him. Not anyone else. Including my odious mother.” He pressed her fingers to his lips, letting the words hang there between them before adding softly, “Now and forever.”

“Jason?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

“I was thinking…how old were you when Evelyn…?”

He expelled a breath. It always hurt to talk about Evelyn, but he was committed to answering any question his wife had from now on. “I was nine. She was seven.”

Georgie sucked in a breath. “Oh, my goodness. So young? How could you have possibly been responsible for your sister at such a young age?”

“I was older than she,” he insisted.

Georgie nodded. “Timothy is nine years old. Did you know that?”

Jason frowned. “The butler’s son? He’s…nine?”

“Yes, nearly ten.”

“But he seems so…”

“So much like a child? That’s because he is.”

Jason shook his head. “All these years, I blamed myself. I suppose I never stopped to think how truly young I was.”

Georgie squeezed his hand. “And your parents allowed you to blame yourself, didn’t they? Instead of blaming themselves, or the servants, or any other adult who might have been charged with watching both of you that day.”

Jason swallowed. “I honestly never thought of it like that.”

Georgie placed a hand on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Jason. You care more about others than yourself. You cared more about me, a near stranger, than my own family did.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.” Her answering smile was radiant, and she surged up to kiss him again, but this time it deepened quickly, heat sparking between them until she was pressed beneath him once more and he was groaning her name into her skin.

By the time they collapsed again, sated and tangled in each other’s arms, she was grinning against his chest.

“You’re going to ruin me for polite company,” she murmured, her fingers drawing idle patterns over his shoulder.

“Good,” he replied, nipping lightly at her ear. “Let them wonder why you’re always smiling.”

Eventually, she rose and slipped into a robe, her cheeks still faintly flushed as she began fussing with her hair in the mirror.

“Poppy’s expecting me,” she said at last, catching his eye in the glass. “She wants my advice about—oh, something or other. Draperies, I think? Or possibly a love letter she claims she found hidden in one of Lady Viva’s hats.”

Jason chuckled at that and rose to dress himself, fastening his waistcoat as he crossed to her side.

“Well,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss just below her ear, “you’re clearly indispensable.”

She smiled at his reflection.

He caught her chin lightly, turning her to face him, and kissed her once more before adding, “I’ll be in my study. Come and find me when you get home.”

His mouth curved into a slow, wicked smile as he added, “We can…continue our discussion from this morning.”

Her breath hitched faintly, but she arched a brow with a small, conspiratorial smile.

“I will,” she promised, her eyes glinting.

And as he watched her sweep toward the door, his heart did something it hadn’t done in years.

It felt full.