Page 68 of The Scent of Intuition
Her middle was sore and hot, a poignant reminder of the intimate moment she had just shared with Alfie. The realization struck her with the force of a tidal wave—she had allowed him to touch her too intimately, far beyond the bounds of propriety. Panic surged within her, and she scrambled to gather her discarded clothes and her reticule with her journal, clutching them to her chest as though they could shield her from her own reckless desires.
“I have to go.” She looked left and right, trying to ensure that she wasn’t leaving as much as a hairpin behind. Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled out of the room and into what she hoped was his bedchamber. She reached for the door with desperate hands, slamming it shut behind her and turning thekey in the lock. The sound of the bolt sliding into place echoed in the quiet room but on the inside, her thoughts grew into an unbearable cacophony. She’d wanted this, him, all of Alfie more than she could say. She was supposed to have the prince, but would he even want to have her? Did it matter anymore? And what about when her parents returned?
She leaned against the door, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and she felt a sob rising in her throat. It had been so good, his touch, his kiss. The memory of his lips on hers sent a fresh wave of heat through her, mingling with the cold fear that gripped her heart.
Alfie. The gorgeous apothecary. She licked her lips and could still taste him, could still smell the heady mixture of herbs and sweetness that seemed to permeate the air around him. Even now, as the steam from their shared moments began to settle, the aroma lingered, tantalizing and intoxicating.
Bea’s shoulders shook with the force of her sobs as she sank to the side of the bed, clutching her clothes to her chest. She cried for the sheer wrongness of what had happened, for the breach of propriety she had committed. But more than that, she wept for the realization that had dawned upon her with startling clarity.
She had been so wrong before. Her daily visits to the apothecary had not been driven by a need for his concoctions or remedies. No, she had wanted to see him, to be near him, to bask in the warmth of his smile and the kindness in his eyes. She had wanted Alfie, the man behind the apothecary, and there was no other explanation for the longing that had taken root in her heart.
And she recognized the familiarity now… she’d ignored it far too long.
The tears flowed freely now, each one a testament to the confusion and desire that warred within her. Bea buried her facein her hands, feeling the weight of her emotions pressing down upon her. How could she have been so blind? How could she have let herself fall so deeply, so irrevocably, for a man who was beyond her reach again after all this time?
She’d recognized his eyes, the color was too unique with the specks of teal and the lines of deep and light hues of blue. He was Mater Varier’s apprentice.
Bea clasped her stomach, nausea bubbling within her. She’d loved him all these years.
The muffled sound of Alfie’s gentle and concerned voice reached her ears. “Bea? Are you all right?”
She choked back a sob, unable to find the words to respond. What could she possibly say to him now? How could she explain the torrent of feelings that had overwhelmed her, the fear and desire that intertwined so tightly within her? He’d been her friend, and she’d let him do… oh she had no words. She should be mortified and yet, even though she knew it was too scandalous, she wanted to do it again.
“Please, Bea,” he called again, his tone softening. “Let me in. I just want to know you’re well.”
The tenderness in his voice only made her cry harder. She pressed her forehead against the bunched-up fabric of her clothes, wishing she could disappear, wishing she could turn back time and undo the moment that had changed everything. But the past could not be undone, and she was left to grapple with the consequences of her actions.
Slowly, hesitantly, she stood, walked to the door, and reached for the key and unlocked it. The handle turned, and Alfie stepped into the room, his expression a mixture of worry and relief. He crossed the threshold cautiously, as though afraid one wrong move might shatter the fragile connection between them.
“Bea,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. That was never my intention.”
Her tears welled anew at his words, and she shook her head. “It wasn’t you,” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “It was me. I didn’t know how to handle… this.”
“I didn’t handle it well either.”
Bea looked at him, searching his eyes for some reassurance, some promise that everything would be all right. And in his gaze, she found it. The way he looked at her, with such tenderness and understanding, soothed the raw edges of her panic.
“I still have the Nagapushpa.” She heard her voice say the words before her mind had made the decision to utter them. “It reminds me of the time when I wasn’t so alone.” But now that it was out, she had to wait. If it was him, and she knew in her heart, it must be, he’d have to react. Would he admit it and give her permission to love him this time?
Alfie reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a gentle caress. “You’re not alone any more if you don’t want to be,” he said.
Bea’s heart stopped. He’d seen deeper into her, recognized her, and he knew her heart better than she did, just like her body. He had always known what she needed.
“It didn’t work last time.”
Alfie jerked his head back. “Last time I wasn’t in the position to ask for your hand.”
“You abided by the rules of Master Varier, didn’t you? You were not supposed to speak with me.”
Alfie furrowed his forehead and made wide eyes. “but now you know it was me.”
“I didn’t know at first,” Bea said, blinking as she pulled his covers around herself. “But I’m right, aren’t I? And why you gave me the rare flower?” A new-found intimacy of not merely passion, but a shared past, enveloped her more than Alfie’s scent from his covers. He’d been in her heart all this time; the physical aspects were the bonus.
*
Alfie’s heart thrummedso strongly that he could feel it in his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you come to find me?”
“Why didn’t I? Why didn’t you?”
