Gentleman Jim (Somerset Stories, #2)

by Mimi Matthews

She touched his face, tracing the curve of his brow with her fingertips and stroking the hard line of his jaw. “My first love,” she murmured to him. “My only love. I am yours. I’ve always been yours.”

She’d always known what he needed, what it took to make him whole. And she gave it to him now unreservedly. Her love. Her friendship. The exquisite reassurance of her touch.

“Enough of your forked-tongue pleasantries, Lavinia,” Allendale said. “There’s nothing I despise more than a serpent who walks upright.”

“We were soul mates,” Maggie had said. “As essential to each other as light or air. From my earliest memory, I existed only for those moments when I could see him next, and he did the same. Neither of us was complete outside the presence of the other.”

“Your temper is unbecoming.” “Then you must take care not to rile it.”

“You and your temper.” Her fingers slid into his hair. “I’ve lately heard it’s unbecoming.” “Not to me.” He nuzzled her cheek. “My fierce, beautiful girl.” He felt her mouth curve in a smile. “You burn so very brightly. Is it any wonder my life has been so cold without you?”

“Yes. For all eternity.” Her voice was a velvet promise. A vow that had never been broken. That couldn’t be broken. Not by time or distance. Not even by death, he suspected.

She was his companion, he’d said. Just as she’d always been. His equal, and second self. Not someone to be silenced. But someone he would help to be heard.