He glanced up with brows knitted at the middle. A broad smile spread over his face as he straightened up. “No, I can’t,” he exhaled his laugh. He quickly adjusted himself behind the cape before unhooking it from his neck and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Should I send your coach on its way, m’lady?”

“You can hand me my underwear,” Victoria said as she primly crossed her legs.

John swooped low to grab her discarded panties from the floor. “No, madam, these are mine. Valuables and virtue, remember?”

“You are a dastardly blackguard.”

He raised his arms as he approached her. “I am,” he said, stopping right before her.

Victoria peered at him from under her lashes, suddenly bashful by their current state. “Did you mean what you wrote on my library account? That I’m the love of your life?” The words fell from her tongue before she could think them through. There was nothing like post-coital honesty.

She feared that it was a mistake to mention, but John planted his hands on both sides of her legs and leaned over her. He pressed his brow to hers and closed his eyes. “Of course I meant it,”

Victoria pulled away to search his face. “When did you wipe my record?”

John leaned closer and nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her throat, making her nipples harden again. His promise to pay attention to every inch of her body was a serious one. “I did it the day you met my mothers.” His lips dragged over her pulse, sucking the warm spot before leaving it for her earlobe.

She could barely think with his teeth gently tugging at the sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning her face. “You did that...”

“I called you ‘my love’ on accident and then subjected you to Maggie and Sandy,” he said, running his tongue along the curve of her ear. “Clearing your account was only fair, but I didn’t add the note until this morning. I love you, Victoria.”

Victoria angled her face to meet his. “After what I did?”

“My love, I would give you unlimited rental privileges if it meant you came back to me.”

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

John meant every word. He searched her face to see if she understood that. Tears stood bright in her wide eyes, threatening to spill with a single blink. Victoria cradled his face in her hands and stared at him. “John,” she whispered.

“I should have told you the last time we were together,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Next time I won’t wait.”

Upon hearing that, Victoria crumbled into a quiet sob. She hung on to his face as she dipped her own, desperate to hide her tears from him.

“No, no, don’t cry,” he said, hooking a finger around her chin. “Baby, you don’t have to—”

“I love you too,” she said with a sniffle. “I love you, John Donovan.”