Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) (37 page)

Letting loose with an uncharacteristic giggle, Amy wrapped her arms tight around Thomas’ muscular shoulders and leaned for just a moment against his
tall,
sculpted frame; relishing the feeling as he drew her body to his in a warm, loving hug.

“It might be a mite difficult to take me about in my current condition and convince folks that you’re courting me proper,” she observed, adding as she graced her host with a nudge of gentle affection, “They might believe that you and I were up to an entirely different brand of reapin’ and sowin, if you catch my meaning.”

Thomas’ eyes flew wide as he considered these
suggestive
words. Then he started laughing. Hard.

“You’re one of a kind, Amy,” he praised her, gracing her with an affirming squeeze and a warm kiss on the forehead. “And I do mean that in the best possible way.”

Amy let loose with a rain of tinkling laughter that flew free on the breezes above them.

“Why
thank you kindly, Thomas,” she returned, adding as she glanced sideways in his direction, “I think.”

The couple
continued on
much in this light, animated fashion for the next few weeks; working side by side amongst their beloved roses by day and retiring to their comfortable ranch house in the evening.

Amy marveled at the way that Thomas insisted on preparing every meal by her side; and she simply had to admit that, though she’d never breathe a word of this notion to him, Thomas’ culinary skills exceeded her own.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked him one day, talking between bites of a succulent Texas steak that he had prepared for their dinner. “My dear departed husband, God rest his soul, nary knew the difference between a ladle and a lentil.”

Thomas laughed.

“I do love your way with words,” he praised her.

More than willing to share her own gift—one that involved a love of reading, teaching, and learning—Amy read to Thomas each night by the fire, reciting classics such as Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” to “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo and explaining their deeper meanings and contexts to a fascinated Thomas.

“I cannot thank you enough, Ma’am, for introducing me to all of these wonderful books,” he told her one evening, clutching her hands between them one night before a raging fire, “Oh I did my share of reading in school, to be sure, and Ma read me her poetry; but we never did peruse the classics.
And I love the way that you interpret each story, coming up with so many bright ideas about each and every one of them.” He paused here, adding as he leaned forward to erase all distance between them, “You’re a whole new world, my lovely—one I long to explore.”

Amy froze, setting her beloved copy of “Pride and Prejudice” aside as she discovered a gentleman even more handsome and captivating than her beloved Mr. Darcy—and, she had to admit, far warmer and kinder.

“And did I mention more
handsome
?” she mused now, admiring the way that Thomas’ carved, bronzed face shone radiant in the light of the fire—along with the long silken mane of golden hair that likened him to an angel.

With
very good
reason, she figured.

She did not resist as he covered her lips with his, his
full soft
lips massaging hers in the sweetest of kisses.

For a moment the couple lingered close, their lips smacking together as their arms clasped between them and he drew her closer to him.

Sinking contented in his big strong arms, Amy relaxed and succumbed to the feeling of
being loved
and cared for; their
bodies
writhing together as his hands ran like warm water down the length of her
work-weary
back, coaxing and massaging as she allowed herself the luxury of truly being loved.

“Heaven help me, Amy, but I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered against her lips, adding as he cradled her to him, “Suddenly I don’t remember much of what my life was like before you came along.”

Amy froze, pursing her lips as she struggled to conjure an image of the man who had given her the child now growing in her belly.

Then, after summoning only a fading,
scratchy
image of her late husband, she excused herself and retired to bed.

*****

He hated himself.

Again.

Standing once again at the center of his prized rose bed, Thomas paused in his morning duties to once again reflect on a romantic evening gone awry.

“I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loves me too.
I can see it in her eyes, I can feel it in her kiss,” he mused, adding with a sigh of deep frustration, “I can give her everything that my world has to offer: the love of a good man who—in her eyes, at least, I ain’t no judge—is passing good looking as well.
A beautiful home. Good food and roses.” He paused here, adding as he kicked some errant dirt beneath his feet, “Even so, every moment I’m with her, I’m competing with a ghost. I can’t be her first husband.”

He fell silent then as he felt her behind him; her
presence
haunting him as always as the wild Texas winds blew fierce around them.

Turning slowly to face a (for once) silent Amy, he spread his arms between them as he declared, “Amy, I swear I had no intentions of hurting you last night, or of being too forward. As I have told you, you are never required to do anything with me that you are not prepared to do.” He paused here, adding as he lifted his chin to
proud
effect, “I do need to know, however, just where I stand with you
Darlin’
. Are we business
pardners
here at the ranch? Are we the best of friends?”

With these
words,
he stared deep into her eyes, which at this point reflected no discernable emotion; making no move to walk closer to her, even as his heart reached out to her.

“Are we in love?” he entreated her, voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me true, Amy.”

In lieu of
offering Thomas a verbal reply, Amy ran forward into his arms; letting loose with a deep, heartfelt sob as she sank resigned in his encompassing embrace.

“Yes,” she released
on
a belabored breath, clutching her new lover closer than close.

Even as he cradled his beloved with
strong,
loving arms, Thomas shook his head in a show of
blatant
confusion as he considered her cryptic answer.

“Yes,” Amy repeated, adding as she drew back to grace him with a soft
beneficent
smile, “Yes, we are ‘
pardners
’—the roses that we grow are beyond beautiful, and I love this land just as much as my own. Yes, we are friends—you understand me in a way that no one ever has, not even my husband. You perceive me as smart and funny, not just
pretty
. You
actually
listen to me when I speak, and you encourage me to share what I know and teach you things. Most men, they cannot be taught.”

With these words she seized his
sumptuous
lips in a passionate kiss; conveying her love in an affectionate gesture that he returned with the greatest love.

“And yes, I do love you,” she declared
in
a whisper, adding as she took his chiseled face in her loving hands and memorized every flawless feature with the gentle stroke of her fingertips, “More than I can say, Thomas. And I promise never again to run from you. Never, my darling.”

She took in her breath as a besotted Thomas fell to his knees before her, clutching her hands in his as he bent low to kiss her slippered feet.

“I love you,” he returned on a sob, adding as he stared up at her with adoring eyes, “And I promise never to leave you. Never, my darling.”

With great
reluctance,
the couple pulled away from one another and returned to their work; pausing
throughout the day
to steal kisses, share jokes and secret smiles, and clasp hands even as they tended the roses that both so adored.

Taking things a step further, Thomas gathered a rich assortment of fresh golden blooms, radiant as they shone in the light of a bright Texas sun, and gathered them in the form of an ebullient bouquet; holding the luminous arrangement behind his back as he approached her with a teasing smile.

“I have a surprise for you, my lady,” he told her, adding as his hand sprang forth with his ebullient nature made
gift
, “Although their beauty does not rival your own, I do hope that you’ll still accept and enjoy them.”

Staring at the bouquet with
wide
eyes, Amy let loose with a sharp gasp as her gaze focused on its fresh golden beauty.

“So I take it you like the bouquet?” Thomas asked with a chuckle. “I sure am glad,
Darlin’
.”

His eyebrows shot upward as she took the flowers from his offering hand, clutching their stems with
unseeming
tightness as she let loose with a low sharp moan.

“So it seems you
REALLY
like the bouquet,” her suitor observed, adding as he cocked his head in what seemed a show of keen curiosity, “Its beauty, in fact,
seems
to have stunned and left you speechless beyond the point of reason.”

Doubling over with a loud, sharp shriek, Amy gasped as she kept a fierce hold on the
erstwhile
stems of her
rich
rose gift.

“Now Amy,” Thomas observed, softening his next words with a gentle smile, “You don’t have to exaggerate your enthusiasm for my benefit—the roses
are hardly culled
from real gold, you know….”

“Could you shut your dang smooth
talkin’
mouth for 10 seconds or so? I’m in pain here!” Amy bellowed, adding as she dropped her flowers sharp to her side and grabbed her bulging stomach with clutching hands. “The baby is coming! Now, if not sooner!”

Gasping outright, Thomas rushed forward to scoop his wailing lady up in two sheltering arms and run for the house with feverish steps; not stopping until he had
lain
her trembling body in the sheets of her
whisper soft
bed.

“I’m going to run into town and get Doc Adams, the man that birthed me and
has
taken care of our family for years,” he told her, identifying the kindly
silver-haired
physician who had brought him into the world as well as helped to ease his parents’ transition out of it. “Don’t move from that spot, Amy!”

Rolling her eyes heavenward, his irritable patient pitched her head backward and let loose with a howl that betrayed her pain.

“
Rest assured
I won’t,” she promised him, adding as she shook her head from side to side, “I mean, where would I go exactly?”

Thomas thought a moment, then nodded.

“Right, good point,” he answered, adding as he raced for the staircase, “I love you!”

*****

In all of his years practicing medicine, Dr. Calvin Adams never had seen a patient in greater distress; one whose
obvious
degrees of pain and exhaustion were painful to regard.

“Are you sure you don’t want to lay down a while?” he asked, squeezing the hand of the
stricken
soul who now kneeled motionless beside
a convenient
bed.

Jumping to his feet with a sharp grunt of protest, an indignant Thomas Wyatt balled his fists at his sides as he considered these patronizing words.

“I’m
absolutely
fine, thank you very much,” he informed his concerned physician, adding as he made a broad gesture in the direction of the bed before them, “And, for that matter, so are Amy and Amelia.”

Letting loose with a mighty shriek that would do her mother proud, the
blue-eyed
, porcelain skinned baby Amelia jumped
into
the sheltering arms of her mother, who opened her eyes to regard her beloved with a sweet, gracious smile.

“This isn’t even your baby,” she reminded him, adding as she reached forward to take his hand in hers, “Yet you stayed here by my side as we brought her into the world together,” she paused here, adding as her eyes widened in what seemed a show of sheer wonder, “And you didn’t even pass out cold!”

Thomas laughed, bringing her hand to his soft lips for a warm affirming kiss.

“As far as I’m concerned, Ma’am, you both belong to me now,” he told her, adding as she met these words with arched eyebrows and a
side-eyed
glance, “While
still remaining
strong
individual types, of course. And, furthermore, I belong to the two of you as well. Although I never shall venture to replace your daughter’s father, in your memory or her heart, I aim to be the very best father and companion that I can be for our odd little family here.”