Chapter 7

As Amelia entered the gates of Andrew Reynolds mansion, she was greeted by the familiar sight of the sprawling lawns and the grand entrance.

Nanny Grace, Andrew's longtime nanny, was waiting for her at the door. As Amelia stepped out of the cab she ordered after she left James' apartment, Nanny Grace rushed over to greet her, concern etched on her face.

"Amelia, dear, how is Andrew doing at the hospital?" Nanny Grace asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Amelia's heart sank at the question. "He's not doing too well, Nanny Grace. He's in a coma," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nanny Grace's face fell as she took in the news. "Oh dear, that's terrible news," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "We've all been praying for him here."

Amelia nodded her head, grateful for Nanny Grace's support. She followed her inside, where the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the air. Despite the stress of the situation, her stomach grumbled in response to the delicious smell.

As they made their way to the dining room, Nanny Grace's sadness was palpable. Amelia could see the lines of worry etched onto her face and knew that the nanny was deeply concerned about Andrew's health.

"I'm sure he'll pull through," Amelia said, trying to reassure Nanny Grace. "I believe he's a fighter." Amelia didn't know much about Andrew, but she believed he'll pull through.

Nanny Grace appreciated the comfort, but it was a little consolation in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"I'll go upstairs to freshen up before dinner." Amelia said.

"Of course, Miss Amelia," Nanny Grace replied with a warm smile. "Take all the time you need.

Amelia nodded and made her way up the grand staircase, her hand trailing along the polished wooden banister. As she climbed the stairs, her thoughts turned to Andrew and how she had ended up in this situation.

Just a few days ago, she had walked up these same stairs in her wedding dress, feeling more like a prisoner than a bride. Her father had arranged the marriage with Andrew, a man she barely knew, and had given her no say in the matter. She had gone through with the wedding, hoping that maybe she would learn to love him.

And now, Andrew lay in a hospital bed, in a coma after a car accident. Amelia knew very little about him, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of sadness that he was fighting for his life.

As she entered her room and closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind.

She walked over to the full-length mirror in her room, her fingers gently tugging at the zipper of her dress. She let out a deep sigh as the fabric fell away from her body, revealing her lacy white bra and matching panties.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but think about Andrew and the way he had touched her the night they got married. She couldn't deny the way his touch had ignited something deep inside of her.

She ran her fingers along the soft lace of her bra, remembering the way Andrew had fumbled with her breasts before he kissed her neck. No one had ever made her feel that way before, not even Henry, her long-time boyfriend.

She was still a virgin, and she didn't want to give herself away to someone she barely knew, even if the physical attraction between them was undeniable.

Amelia stepped into the shower and turned on the water, she let out a sigh of relief as the warm water cascaded over her body. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, her thoughts drifting off to a more peaceful place.

Suddenly, she heard her room door creak open, and her eyes shot open in alarm. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.

She quickly turned off the shower, her heart racing in her chest. "Who's there?" she called out again.

There was no response, and she called out again the third time, louder this time. "Nanny Grace, is that you?" But still, there was no response, and she began to feel a sense of unease creeping over her.

As she reached for her robe, someone suddenly stretched their hand and grabbed it, causing her to jump back in alarm. She covered her breasts with her hands, her heart pounding in her chest as she screamed out in terror. "Who is it? Who's there?"

She came out of her shower, and her heart leaped into her throat as she saw Henry standing outside her bathroom door, looking straight at her with her robe in his hands.

"OH MY GOD!!!" Amelia screamed, crossing her arms over her chest to cover her exposed body. "What are you doing here?! Get out!!"

She quickly grabbed the robe he was holding and covered her body. She wrapped it around her body, trying to cover up as much as possible. She was still feeling vulnerable and exposed.

"Why are you covering up so quickly?" Henry asked, noticing that Amelia was holding her towel tightly around her body.

"You don't need to cover up for me," Henry continued, gesturing to her towel. "I've seen you like this before. You know I've seen enough of you."

"This isn't right Henry, we're done," Amelia replied, a little defensively. "I just...I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea. You shouldn't be in my room."

"I've missed you Amelia." He said as he stood there staring at her.

He reached out to kiss her, but she turned her face away, avoiding his lips.

"Stop, Henry," she said, pulling away from him. "You can't keep doing this."

"Why not?" Henry asked, "don't you want me anymore?"

"Everything we had, died the day you left me at the train station," she said, her voice heavy with emotion. "You chose to walk away from me, Henry. You chose to let me go.

Henry looked down, his eyes shadowed with regret. "I know that I messed up, Amelia. I know that I hurt you. But I still love you"

"Stop it, Henry," Amelia said firmly. "This isn't fair to me, or to Andrew. He's your cousin for God sake. What are you going to do if he finds out about us?" she questioned him.

But Henry didn't stop, he paid no attention to what she said either. He stepped closer to Amelia, his heart beating with anticipation.

Amelia shifted back a step, feeling her heart race with nervousness. Regardless of what Henry did, she still felt something for him.

Henry could sense her apprehension, but he didn't let it deter him. He moved closer still, his eyes locked on hers, and he reached out to brush her hair back from her face.

Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she felt his fingers on her skin. She wanted to pull away, to tell him to stop, but she couldn't seem to find the words.

Finally, Henry spoke. "Are you scared?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "Scared that you won't be able to resist me?"

Amelia's eyes widened in alarm as she breathed heavily. "No, I'm not scared. I just don't want us to do something we'll regret."

She swallowed hard, her eyes still locked on his. She knew that she was on the brink of giving in.

But before she could say anything else, Henry leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, cutting off any further protests she might have made.

Suddenly, Amelia's room door was pushed open.