“Dinner?” Amelia sat again. Thank God that this time she held the blanket in place. “What time is it?”
“Almost midnight.”
“What?” She started to climb out of bed, but Nicholas blocked her.
“There’s no need to rise. Florentia asked me to check on you since you did not eat. I have a tray in my chamber.”
“I should check on my mother.”
“We have a servant watching over her. Your mother is sleeping, and there’s no call to go in and disturb her. I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but my sister said you haven’t eaten but a few bites the past few days, and I’d rather you didn’t fall ill.”
“I’m not hungry.” She slid off the bed, and since he did not step back, they were incredibly close. Finally, he turned to the side.
“You must eat. Think of the baby.”
Her reaction was completely unexpected. She jerked and grasped the blanket then looked at him with an expression that seemed uncharacteristically guilty.
“What is it?” he asked. There was no denying something was the matter.
“I have been wanting to tell you.” She swallowed and her hand at her throat tightened. “There won’t be a baby.”
Nicholas stared at her for a long moment before his gaze lowered to her abdomen. Without thinking, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. He’d wanted to comfort her, but when she went willingly, he found himself surprised to be holding her. “I’m so sorry. Should we call a doctor? Are you in pain?”
“No.” He felt her shake her head. “I didn’t lose the baby.”
He pulled back to look down at her.
She avoided his gaze, her cheeks pink. “I was mistaken. I was not breeding. My monthly—er, courses, were simply late.”
And then he understood. She was not carrying another man’s child. She would not be having a baby.
“I feel so awful. I did not mean to mislead you. I’d never been late before, and I assumed it was because—”
He pulled her close again. “There’s no need to apologize. Are you upset?”
“No,” she murmured, pressing her face into his shoulder. “I’m actually relieved. I know you said you would treat another man’s child as your own, but I did wonder. And now we can start over. Perhaps we can have a real marriage.”
Nicholas stiffened and pulled back. “I see I’ve given you the wrong impression.”
She looked up at him, her wide brown eyes full of puzzlement.
“This changes nothing for me. Our marriage is still one in name only.” He saw the pain slice through her features at his words, and though he should have seen all of the signs, he was surprised. Something had happened in the last week since they’d wed. She’d changed her mind. She wanted more from him. Was it because she had lost the baby, or did she have feelings for him?
No matter. Even if she wanted a real marriage, he couldn’t give that to her. He was only half a man, and she had simply forgotten that for the moment.
“There’s a tray in my chamber,” he said. “Come and eat something.”
He turned and walked stiffly to the door between their rooms. He was painfully aware she watched him as he walked away, and though he hated people to see his infirmity, perhaps it was for the best this time. It would remind her that he was damaged.
“Why?” she said. Her voice rang out in the silent room. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
“To keep up your strength. You won’t be much good to your mother if you fall ill.”
She shook her head, her amber waves falling about her shoulders. “No. Why is our marriage in name only?”
Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest. “That was the agreement.”
“And I needed to agree with you at that time because I was desperate and ruined. I would have agreed to almost anything, but I made a mistake agreeing to be a wife in name only. I want more.”
“It’s too late for that now,” he said, his voice icy. “The agreement has been made.”
“Then let’s change it.”
“No.”
Her hands went to her hips and the blanket drooped, revealing the low neckline of her shift again. “Why? Why did you want a platonic marriage? You never told me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He started for the door again, but she had two perfectly good legs—two lovely legs, if memory served—and she raced in front of him and stood in the doorway, blocking his way. Her arms were stretched wide, and the fire from the hearth in his room was at her back. The effect was predictable. He could see the outline of her body under the thin, linen shift perfectly.
“It matters to me,” she was saying, even as he tried to look away from those delectable curves. “I know you want me.”
His gaze jerked to her face. Had she seen him looking at her?
“You kissed me in the stable just the other day,” she said, obviously not noticing his roving eyes. “That has to mean something.”
“It means I wasn’t thinking.”
“You weren’t trying to remind yourself that you don’t want me, you mean? Why not? What is wrong with me?”
Oh, dear God. She thought something was wrong with her? She was perfect. “Don’t be daft,” he said sharply. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” His words were so curt, she dropped her arms. Unfortunately, that meant the bodice of her shift dropped too, all but revealing her breast. Nicholas’s gaze dropped, and so did Amelia’s. She lifted her hand, perhaps to pull the neckline back up, but then she hesitated. She looked at Nicholas, and their gazes met.
Oh, no. He would not be lured in by her body. He was stronger than that. The pleasure would be short-lived. Once she saw his legs, her desire would turn to disgust. But he couldn’t stand here with her half-dressed. He’d tug that neckline up himself. He reached for the linen, took hold of it, and stopped. His hand brushed the silky, plump skin of her breast. She inhaled sharply, and their gazes met again. He should pull the linen up now, wrap her in the blanket, and push her to the tray of food.
He should hurry and cover her. He should not look down at the skin his hand touched.
But he did look down, and then he moved his hand slightly so the back of it brushed over the top of her rounded breast. Her skin was warm and so impossibly soft. He couldn’t seem to stop his hand from drawing the material down to reveal her entire breast.
His hand brushed over her distended nipple, the point teasing his skin as it pebbled beneath his touch. He turned his hand, closing his palm over her breast and testing the weight of it. Amelia moaned, and when he looked at her again, her eyes were closed and her teeth biting the edge of her lip. She liked his touch. It made him want to touch her more, touch her everywhere.
Instead, he bent and brushed his lips over hers.
“Yes,” she murmured and kissed him back.
He continued to fondle her breast as she opened her mouth and his tongue tangled lazily with hers. There was nothing rushed about the kiss. It was slow and sensual and when the kiss deepened, he tugged lightly on her nipple, making her gasp and press closer.
He moved forward then, intent on pressing her back and pushing his hard cock against her soft belly. But his leg was stiff, and he couldn’t unlock the knee for a moment. He almost stumbled and released her, swearing.