Chapter Eleven
For a long moment there was silence. Vickery squeezed his eyes even more tightly shut, and then opened them and turned his head and looked at her. Charley Prowse. Alexander Aubrey St. Clare. With his mismatched eyes and his tousled dark hair and the worry on his face.
Georgie held her tongue while he wrestled with his decision. Don’t push, she told herself. Let him make up his mind.
“Yes,” he said, and the word seemed to come from deep within him. He thrust the diary aside and pulled her into his arms and kissed her as passionately as he’d kissed her yesterday. “I love you,” he said against her mouth. “You have no idea how much I love you.”
Georgie tried to say the words back to him, but his kiss was too fierce, too urgent, stealing her breath, making her heart sing. It
