Curled up under some blankets on the chaise longue with a cup of tea in her hands and Sam sitting next to her, Ivy was slowly beginning to feel like herself again. The heat of the fire helped dispel the odd feeling of being frozen to the bone. Her hands ached, the skin red and raw from having been exposed to the cold for so long. Even her gloves had not been enough to keep the icy winds at bay.

Gripping her cup a little tighter, she glanced at Sam. From having had her literally on his lap not that long ago, he was now sitting as far away from her as he could without falling off the chaise. It would have been amusing had she not been so busy trying to sort through her tangled feelings. She didn't understand him. Didn't understand what he wanted. Or didn't want. He even contradicted himself, saying one thing and doing another. Why would he say he wanted her but throw her away at the first opportunity? Tell her they couldn't be together, but then save her in a snowstorm at the risk of his own health?

A wry smile tugged at her lips. Maybe he didn't understand himself either.

The fire crackled quietly while the wind whined outside, and the noises were oddly soothing. Her eyelids grew heavy. It had been a long day. Trudging through the snow in the freezing cold had been exhausting and now that she could finally relax, she struggled to fight off the tiredness. Pulling the covers tighter around her, she yawned.

"If you want to sleep, you should move to the bed," Sam suggested. "It'll be a lot more comfortable. I believe I saw a bed warmer. Let me get it ready for you."

He disappeared before she could say anything and returned shortly after with a round brass tin with a long wooden handle. She watched sleepily as he filled it with coal and used it to heat the bed and covers.

"Won't I be ruined?" she asked with another yawn.

Having just put the bed warmer away, Sam froze and stared at her. "P... Pardon?"

"Spending the night away with you," she clarified. "Everyone must know I'm missing."

"Oh." Was she imagining it, or had his cheeks gone a shade darker? "No, I imagine Winterbourne will have kept your absence hidden."

"How is that even possible?"

Sam shrugged. He was wearing another of the shirts found in the cottage and hadn't bothered buttoning it, giving her a tantalising glimpse of the top of his chest in the deep V. When he pulled a blanket around himself for warmth, she was rather disappointed.

"I don't know what he will do," Sam said. "But if it were me, I would pretend you returned with the others but have gone straight to your room to warm up. I believe your friends would know to keep your absence a secret. Then we'd just say you caught a cold and will remain cooped up in your room until recovered."

"Clever." She stifled another yawn with her hand. "Do you often have to make up excuses for when someone is not where they're meant to be in your line of work?"

He smiled slightly. "Sometimes, but it's hardly the main part of what I do."

"So what do you do?" She was actually curious. Before him, she doubted Tilbury had ever seen a private investigator. Their village was so quiet that they rarely sought the help of the local magistrate.

"A little of everything. We find missing people or items. There's a fair share of spouses wanting to know if their wife or husband is unfaithful. Some will hire us instead of a thief-taker to find someone who stole from them or wronged them." Sam smiled slightly. "It's quite varied."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes."

He answered without hesitation, and she rather envied how he seemed so sure of what he wanted—at least in this—while she felt adrift, pulled between two worlds ever since finding out about her true origins. On the one side, there was the quiet life in the country with her family in Tilbury. She complained about it a lot and wanted a little more excitement than the small village offered, but she still loved it. Loved her siblings and the parents who had taken care of her for her entire life. Then there was the new world filled with sparkling delights, new acquaintances and experiences, new parents, and a life far beyond what she was used to. A life that offered her possibilities for a future far beyond what she had ever dared dream of.

Some might think the choice should be easy, but it was not. She wanted both, but the people of the ton would always look down on her past in Tilbury, on her family with no titles and a father who had once worked for a living. They would expect her to forget them, to leave them behind like a snake shedding its skin. Something she could never do.

"You look lost in thought." Sam's words brought her back, and to hide her mixed emotions, she took another sip of her tea, only to grimace as it had grown cold.

"Just tired," she mumbled.

"Get some sleep. The bed is warm for you."

She stood and hurried over to the bed to avoid walking on the cold floor with her bare feet for longer than necessary. Crawling into it and huddling under the covers with her blankets, she looked over at Sam, who hovered near the chaise.

"What about you? Surely you need to sleep as well."

"I will sleep on the chaise."

"Surely sharing the bed is better to share the heat?" She thought it was a pretty logical suggestion, but the line appearing between Sam's brows made it seem like she had suggested something unthinkable. She frowned. "Sam?"

His cheeks took on a slightly deeper shade. "No, I think the chaise will be fine."

Annoyance sparked inside her. "Really? You cannot even lie next to me to stay warm? I promise I won't pounce on you. I am not that desperate, Sam."

His gaze met hers, and something in the dark depths of his eyes sent a flutter of butterflies through her. "You may not be..."

She inhaled sharply.

"But I've been fighting back the urge to pull you into my arms and remove that ridiculously large shirt since I got back to the room." He gripped his blankets a little tighter, his knuckles white as if he was holding on for dear life.

Part of her wanted him to give in. To kiss her. To take her in his arms the way she had dreamed of since they first met. But her anger held her back.

"No," she said, her voice clearer and stronger than she'd expected, and his eyes widened. "No, Sam. You do not get to say that to me. Not after everything that's happened. Not after you chose money over me. You made your choice, and I was not it."

"I..." He shifted awkwardly, putting more weight on his good leg, and then he sighed. "You're right. I will keep such thoughts to myself."

"I wish I could understand you," she muttered. "Is it simply lust? Do you care for me at all? I believed you did when you visited Tilbury, and some things you say and do make me believe it still. But if you did, I don't understand how you could accept Lord Wycliffe's money."

"Because it was never about the money. It was about your future. Your happiness." He dragged a hand through his dark auburn hair. "With a season in London, you stand to find a husband far beyond my means. Perhaps even one with a title. How could I selfishly keep you from that?"

"I never cared about a title, Sam. Or any of those other things." She grabbed fistfuls of the covers in her fingers and squeezed, needing to do something with her hands or she might cry. "It was not your decision to make unless you simply didn't want me. Or preferred the money."

"I never accepted the money!" His outburst seemed to surprise him as much as her, and he cursed quietly.

A treacherous spark of hope ignited in her chest. "What... What do you mean?"

He groaned. When he took a few steps towards her, she noted his uneven gait was more pronounced, and realised he must be hurting after walking around without a cane and from riding in the snow. She nodded towards him, and he sat down opposite her on the edge of the bed.

"Lord Wycliffe did offer to pay me to stay away from you." Sam sighed. "But I told him to keep his money."

She shook her head as if it would somehow make everything make sense. "Why would you let me believe you did?"

A wry smile touched his lips. "I thought it would make it easier to stay away if you hated me."

"Did it?"

His gaze met hers. "No."

The cold was all but forgotten as she stared up at the handsome man sitting so close on the bed. A warm feeling churned low in her belly, slowly spreading through her limbs.

"These last few months have been awful," he admitted. "I've regretted my decision a dozen times over. I haven't slept. All I could think of was you."

The worn look about him she'd noticed. That was because of her? She swallowed back the lump in her throat. He did care. Had all along.

"When you didn't return from the sledge ride..." Sam took her hands in his. They were no longer cold, but the skin still had an angry red tint. "I feared the worst, and I couldn't stay back. I had to find you and make sure you were safe... Any alternative was simply unthinkable."

He squeezed her hands before reaching out and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not ready for a world without Ivy."

Maybe the cold had addled her brain. Maybe she simply had no self-control. Ivy wasn't sure, but before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and placed her lips against Sam's. He froze, and when she pulled back slightly, he remained still, their breaths mingling between them. She was just about to apologise for pouncing on him—the very thing she had said she would not do only minutes ago—when he groaned and pulled her close, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

Heat surged through her body, warming every part of her, and settling low in her abdomen. Right then, she didn't care if he didn't see a future for them. She didn't care if this was all they would ever have. She just wanted to be with him. To feel his arms around her waist and his lips on hers.

Whatever restraints Sam had been holding onto appeared to have melted away with the snow on their coats as he continued kissing her, his tongue stealing across her lips to fully capture her mouth. Her fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head as she pushed herself closer to him, needing—no, craving—his heat.

He placed warm kisses along her neck and down her shoulder while she slid her hands down his back and under his shirt. His skin was hot below her palms, and she impatiently tugged at the fabric covering him, wanting more access. Sam obeyed, quickly pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it at the bottom of the bed before returning to her mouth with even more fervour.

Their movements were hurried, and impatient, fuelled by the knowledge that they should not be doing this. But neither of them voiced any of the reasons it was a bad idea, too focused on the here and now. And here and now, Ivy wanted nothing but to revel in the nearness to the man she loved.

The thought gave her pause for a moment. She loved Sam? The more she thought about it, she realised she did. Even when she had tried to hate him for leaving her, she had missed him and wished to see him again. There was no escaping the truth. She loved him.

"Ivy?" Sam lifted his head to meet her gaze, having noticed her distraction.

She stared at him. This man who had entered her life in such an embarrassing way. How had he nestled his way into her heart so quickly? But he had, and there was no sign of him ever leaving. If she couldn't have him forever, at least she could have tonight.

Without offering him a reply, she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, tracing the lines and ridges of his torso, revelling at the flatness of his abdomen. When her fingers reached the top button of his trousers, he sucked in a breath. Encouraged by his silence, she moved her hand over the buttons, following the shape of him below the fabric. He was harder than she would have expected. So different to how she was shaped. She'd read some racy texts her friends shared, but it did not compare to reality.

Sam let out a restrained moan when she stroked him over the trousers, exploring the size and shape. For a moment, she forgot about everything else, curiosity making her focus on this new and exciting discovery. What would it look like? The caricatures she'd seen when her friends giggled over them didn't seem to do it justice. She flicked open the first button on the trousers but was disappointed when Sam covered her hands with his own.

"Not yet," he said with a soft smile. "I don't think I could last if you properly touched me."

Her disappointment was tempered by his kiss as he captured her mouth again. When he pulled the borrowed shirt over her head, she didn't argue, and when he leaned back slightly to watch her naked body in the light of the flickering fire, she said nothing, though her cheeks burned.

"Beautiful," he murmured before bending down to capture a nipple in his mouth.

The touch sent a jolt of desire through her, and when he sucked gently, she moaned. He lay her down against the sheets, covering her with his body as he continued sucking and nipping at her breast, while his other hand squeezed the other one. Heat gathered between her legs. All she could think about was the man above her and the sensations his touch evoked. She wanted more. She wanted him.

He moved slightly to offer her other breast the same treatment as the first, while his hand trailed a path down her side and hips. Her legs opened almost as if of their own will to allow him access, as he traced a pattern on the inside of her thighs. When his fingers grazed her heated core, she let out a whimper, her body tense with anticipation.

His finger slipped between her legs, and into her heat, moving slowly and teasingly. She shifted restlessly, needing more. Before she could say anything, he kissed a path down her stomach, distracting her with the feeling of his hot mouth against her skin. When he reached the patch of hair between her legs and placed a kiss on top of the mound, her eyes opened and she stared down at him. He lifted his head and grinned up at her, the look on his face so wicked another wave of heat rushed through her body.

A moment later, he dipped his head and placed a kiss at the apex of her thighs. The sheer wickedness of such an act should have made her tell him to stop, but her tongue was tied, unable to speak, as she was too focused on his touch. He gently spread her legs a little wider to reveal her fully to him, and the sight of him between her thighs, so close to her most private area, was both shocking and arousing.

Any further thought fled when his tongue licked a long stroke along her, finishing at the sensitive bud at the top. Pleasure pulsed through her as he continued licking and gently sucking at a leisurely pace, building her desire with every move. A deep moan wrenched from her throat when he hit a particularly sensitive area, and her fingers gripped the sheets of the bed. For every lick, every stroke, he pushed her closer to the precipice.

There was no one else then. No disapproving family. No snowstorm raging outside. Only the tempest in her, threatening to overwhelm her at any moment. When Sam slipped a finger inside her to stroke her to the same rhythm as his tongue, the pleasure intensified until she finally hurled over the edge in a shattering burst. A loud moan escaped her as wave after wave washed over her while Sam continued lapping at her, prolonging the pleasure until she was well and truly spent.

Returning to her mouth, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. She pulled at his trousers, wanting to have him closer still. There was an emptiness inside that only he could fill. Between kisses, he helped her unbutton his trousers, and she pushed them down his hips. His movements were urgent and feverish, almost like he didn't want to stop long enough to allow his brain to catch up to what they were doing. Neither did she. Tonight was just theirs. Tomorrow would be another problem, and they would deal with it then.

He settled between her legs, his rigid length pressing against her heat. Lifting himself with his arms, he looked down at her, concern and desire clouding his eyes. When he looked like he was about to ask her a question, she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. She didn't want him to ask. Didn't want to think. She only wanted to feel.

They continued kissing, and when he ground against her, she moaned against his lips. His length rubbed against her sensitive spot, upping her desire even further. She moved underneath him, wanting him closer still.

"Ivy," he moaned, his voice strangled by restraint.

"Sam..." She caressed his back as she shifted restlessly. "Please. I want you."

"I—" He groaned and kissed her deeply.

He moved, and a moment later, she felt him pressing against her opening. Another kiss and he pushed into her heat, sheathing himself to the hilt. It was a foreign sensation, feeling so... filled... but not unpleasant. Sam held still for a moment to allow her time to adjust to the intrusion. She shifted slightly, and let out a small moan when the friction sent a wave of desire through her.

Encouraged by her reaction, Sam began moving. Caught in a sea of passion, Ivy held on to him as every move sent another jolt of desire through her. Her legs locked around his waist, and she moaned when he rested his head at the crook of her neck while placing ardent kisses on her sensitive skin. She tensed underneath him as she reached the pinnacle, and she called his name as she expired in a flash of bright light as she burst into a thousand shards.

Sam finished a few moments later after a few jerky movements, collapsing on top of her. His weight pushing her into the mattress didn't feel suffocating as much as safe, and she embraced him as their breaths slowed. Sam placed a soft kiss on her temple before shuffling off her to lie next to her on the bed. She dared a cheeky glance at the member still standing salute between his legs and was rather impressed that it had fit so neatly inside her.

His trousers were still halfway down his thighs, and with an embarrassed smile, he took them off. The wooden leg on his lower right leg was attached to a leather contraption with a harness on his thigh. Without looking at her, he unbuckled the leather straps and put the leg down on the floor by the bed.

"I don't usually wear it to bed," he mumbled. "But I was... somewhat distracted."

She smiled. It was silly, but she liked that she was a distraction to him. "I'll happily be your distraction any day," she teased.

He chuckled quietly before pulling her against him and covering them with the duvet and blankets. "You already are."

Nestling into his embrace, she buried her nose in the crook of his neck. He still smelled the same as the first time she'd been close to him, and there was something comforting about that. Underneath the layers of blankets to keep them warm, it felt like they were away from the world in their own little cocoon and she wanted to stay there forever. Sam was already drifting off, his breathing slow and steady. She was fine with that. Preferred it even, because she was quite happy to wait until morning to discuss the consequences of their actions. Because she was pretty sure he would not be happy with what she had decided.

~~~~~~