Billionaire Flawed 1(55)

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.”