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She sealed that letter without revising a word. His answer came before dusk.

Amelia,

I have selected the cravat. You have had my company without a wager for several days. I have discovered that even in your absence, you occupy a remarkable amount of it.

Until tomorrow,

Dominic

Amelia sat with the letter resting upon her lap. This letter was dangerous. She wanted to dismiss it as flirtation, enjoy it, and reply in kind. Those words offered something she could not quite laugh away. She had occupied his thoughts. He had occupied hers. She reached for the ribbon and drew it gently between her fingers, smiling despite the nervousness gathering beneath her ribs.

Tomorrow she would hear the music she had chosen, with the man she wished to sit beside her. Afterward, she would bring him home. For the moment, she let herself look forward to it all.

Seven

Dominic had selected his cravat with far more care than any garment he intended to keep. His valet had offered three. Dominic had rejected the first as too stiff, the second as unnecessarily elaborate, and accepted the third because Amelia could untie it without seeking professional assistance. The valet had taken that explanation in silence, though one eyebrow had risen a fraction before he turned to brush a nonexistent speck from the coat.

Now, waiting in his box at the King’s Theatre, Dominic touched the knot at his throat and wondered whether he ought to have selected something more challenging. He had enjoyed watching her concentrate upon his collar as she untied it. Her lower lip caught lightly between her teeth and her fingers warm against his skin. He had also enjoyed the small, triumphant smile she gave him when the linen finally came free. The memory sent a pleasant, unsettling heat through him, and he dropped his hand to his knee.

He was absurdly enjoying a great many ordinary things. Below him, the audience settled and stirred. Candles illuminated the neighboring boxes, catching upon jewels and the painted edges of fans. Gentlemen greeted acquaintances across the divisions while ladies inspected the company. Dominic glanced toward the door again. He had arrived early enough to receive her without haste. Though courtesy hardly explained why he had spent the intervening minutes listening for footsteps. He drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair until he noticed and stilled them. He wanted to see her. After several days of correspondence, he wanted to hear the voice. While reading every letter, he had imagined her and wanted to learn whether she sounded as wicked in person as she did on the page.

The door opened, and Amelia entered in blue silk. His carefully considered greeting deserted him, along with most of his breath. The gown was the color of the sky just after sunset, deep and luminous. Silver trim caught the light as she moved. Her shoulders were bare above a neckline that fulfilled every promise her correspondence had made. A pale curl rested beside her ear, exactly where he remembered kissing her, and his pulse knocked hard and slow at the memory.

“Amelia.” He rose and crossed to her, taking the hand she offered. Her fingers were cool from the night air, and he resisted the urge to warm them between his own. “You have found me.”

“Your directions were competent.” Her smile suggested she had noticed his distraction and approved. A small, pleased curve that lit her eyes. “I considered rewarding you with a prompt arrival.”

“You have my gratitude.” He grinned. Dominic bowed. When he straightened, her gaze remained upon his face, steady and warm, and the air between them seemed to thicken. “You look lovely,” he said, his voice lower than he intended.

“I warned you that I intended to distract you.” She tilted her chin, mischief sparking in her expression.

“Consider me distracted,” he said.

He helped her with her cloak. His knuckles grazed the bare skin of her shoulders as the wool slid away. She did not flinch, and he felt the small, deliberate stillness that followed. He handed the cloak to the attendant, and once the door closed, he guided her to the chairs. “I hope that you have been attentive to your instructions,” she said, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“I promise to be diligent,” he told her.

“For tonight?” She settled her skirts so close he felt her faint warmth through the fabric.

“I promise to become an attentive listener,” he answered, taking the seat beside her.

She looked at the printed paper in her hand, her brow lifting. “Così fan tutte. You have chosen an opera with a wager.”

He grinned. It seemed like fate had planned it for him. “The resemblance occurred to me.”

“And therefore you could not resist it?” she asked, amused.

He shrugged. “I thought we might enjoy watching people complicate things they believed were settled.”

Her eyes lifted to his, bright with amusement. “That sounds suspiciously like an opinion.”

“I am preparing, my lady. I was told there would be an examination,” he deadpanned.

“A wise precaution. I have not yet decided what the examination will cover.” She said it softly, and her gaze drifted to his mouth and back again, so quickly he might have imagined it. He did not think he had.

Dominic smiled and turned toward the stage as the orchestra prepared, the musicians murmuring their tuning in rising layers of sound. He had chosen Mozart because he liked the music and remembered enough of the story to expect amusement. Seated beside Amelia, with the scent of jasmine drifting from her hair, he wondered whether a comedy about testing women’s fidelity had been his wisest contribution.

She might enjoy it. She might also require his opinion of every foolish gentleman involved. He would give it honesty. He had promised her that much, and the promise sat in his chest like a small, warm weight. During the overture, Amelia grew still. Her hand relaxed upon her fan, and she leaned slightly toward the stage. She was absorbed, her lips parting as the strings swelled. Dominic had seen her amused, triumphant, uncertain, and wonderfully unrestrained in private. This quiet pleasure was different. For the moment, she had forgotten to watch his reaction, and the unguarded softness of her face tightened his throat.