In any other moment, with any other person, Angelica was certain she would have hexed the life out of anyone that dared suggest such a scenario. Then again, she had given her heart and all to the love of her life at seventeen. That fool of a girl also believed in forever and assumed love and devotion would be all her husband would demand of her. Everyone makes mistakes. What comfort had she gained in nearly a decade of fidelity to a dead man?

"Promises, promises." She managed before he ended a month of her longing. It was the closest to satisfied her mind had registered since her dueling victory, the flood of exhilaration, the buzzing in her veins intoxicating. Of course he was good at this. She made a mental note to roll her eyes at a later time when she wasn't busy drinking him in.

Her lips parted for him with little provocation and it struck her that maybe this was the sort of thing that qualified as "like flying on a broom." The idiotic comparison almost made her laugh, but there was another reason to break away from the kiss for a moment. "Does that mean I won this round?" Angel offered with a wicked grin, that she lost as soon as his hands began to pull at her sleeves. For just a moment, the implications, all the ways this could go wrong, had her freezing. All the ways this wasn't her, that she had never done something so reckless; that he could harm her had anxiety interfering with the lust holding court, but she chased it away with another kiss. She could take care of herself. Freeing her arms from the gown, she took down her hair, allowing him to enjoy the intimate spill of her hair over her torso. She took great pride in the picture she presented him.

"Let's see if match those words with actions, Mr. Selwyn."

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