“I thought you were busy changing the house with Katie?” Byron said.

“No, she had to go, and I thought I’d like to help you dress,” Amelia said.

Byron raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I thought you were pushed for time.”

Amelia looked through Byron’s collection of ties and tried a few against the suit. “I’m already late. Besides, I’m your personal tailor.”

“How true. Then I am at your disposal. Dress me, Mrs. Debrek.” Byron took off her dressing gown, and Amelia’s eyes roved all over her body.

Amelia was lost in her gaze, until Byron said, “Amelia? Underwear is in those drawers.”

Amelia shook herself and took a breath. She loved Byron’s body, and could look at it for hours. She walked over to the drawers and picked out jockey shorts and a vest. She knew there was one more thing that made Byron who she was, but should she ask?

Byron decided for her when she said, “Bottom drawer, mia cara.”

She opened up the drawer, and quickly picked out one of the strap-ons. Byron had them made to measure so they could be worn under her suit.

Amelia had never used a strap-on with any other lover before. She’d always fantasized about it, but never asked for it. That was part of the reason she and Byron were so sexually in tune. She didn’t have to ask. The strap-on was such an essential part of Byron’s sexuality that it was just natural to her. Amelia remembered the first time she’d measured Byron at Grenville and Thrang.

Amelia moved around in front of Byron with her pencil in her mouth. This would be the difficult part—being in such close proximity to someone who radiated a heat that drew her in and made her want things she had only thought about in the privacy of her mind.

She took what she thought was the safest option and kneeled by Byron’s legs. When her eyes naturally went to Byron’s fly and she saw a slight bulge there, her heart started to hammer.

Oh my God. Does she? She couldn’t wear—

Just like her fantasy?

She held up the tape to Byron’s inside leg and couldn’t help the small groan that escaped her lips. Byron wore a strap-on.

It was her fantasy, Byron was her fantasy. She looked up when she felt Byron’s hand stroking her head.

“You see why I need discretion, Amelia?” Byron said.

“Yes,” Amelia croaked. “I can give you discretion, I can give you anything you want, Byron.”

“I know.”

She was pulled from her thoughts by Byron’s touch. “Amelia? What are you thinking?”

“About the first time I measured you. I thought someone had seen into my fantasies, and sent you to me.”

Byron smiled, took the strap-on, and underwear, and quickly put them on. “I think I was made for you three hundred years ago.”