“I thought you would want to know what Anant said after you were gone.” Stephen removed his riding boots, then his coat. He turned away to unbutton his shirt, catching her attention. At the sight of his bare back, her cheeks heated. His muscles appeared sinewy with rough planes, like carved marble. Upon the back of his neck, she saw the Chinese tattoo. The foreign marking gave him a dangerous edge, like a mercenary. Fear rippled through her, and she wondered what it meant.

“I—yes, I would.”

He leaned against the chair, his corded muscles tight in the firelight. He stood so near, she smelled the faint trace of brandy on his breath. But there was no doubt he was sober.

“He warned me not to trust Carstairs. And I’m inclined to agree with him.”

Stephen’s hand curled around the back of her neck. “You accused me of letting your brother die.”

Shame darkened her cheeks. “I didn’t know what happened. I thought you’d left him.” She rose from the chair, both afraid to move closer…and afraid he would move away.

“I nearly died,” he admitted.

Emily rested her forehead against his chest, and she believed him. His hands settled upon the crown of her head, his thumbs brushing her temples. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

And she meant it, in her heart. Despite their tenuous beginning, he still held her heart. And she wanted him desperately.

He touched her neck, his hands moving down her back. Gently, he pressed her body closer until she felt the hard length of him through his trousers. A tiny spiral of fear hovered, but she pushed it aside. She wanted to be with him tonight, to pretend for a moment that the danger didn’t exist. To claim him as her own and make him remember all the things he’d forgotten.

His fingers moved against her spine, gathering the fabric of her nightgown until it rose to her knees. He reached beneath the delicate linen, his palms cupping her bare bottom. At his touch, Emily closed her eyes.

“Did I undress you like this on our wedding night?”

“I…undressed myself. I was in your bed waiting for you.” Just remembering it made her nipples pucker against the cool fabric. As his hands caressed her, warm heat blossomed between her thighs. He drew her against him, his manhood rock-hard against the thin barrier of clothing.

He kissed her, his mouth conjuring up the past as though their wedding night were only a day ago. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

“Help me remember everything,” he whispered.

Emily raised her arms, and he lifted her nightgown away. She stood naked before him, his eyes turning hot.

He kissed her again, a demanding embrace that took her mouth fully captive. Emily surrendered to his mouth, meeting his passion with her own feelings.