Eyes still closed, she smiled and reached for Emmett. Her hand met with air. She frowned and rolled onto her back. A hard surface jarred her shoulder blades and she opened her eyes. Cobwebbed rafters met her gaze, the ceiling cloaked in semi-darkness. Her frown deepened. The last vestiges of sleep sped away, replaced by aggressive conscious thought. She turned her head to look at the windows. Daylight had faded, the remnants of the afternoon swallowed up by the oncoming night. Dirt streaked the panes and she blushed upon remembering the dream. How vivid it was. How…real. She sat up. One breast hung free of her bodice. A chill in the air and the memory of Emmett’s fingers perked her nipple and her face heated further. Had she touched herself while she slept? Amelia glanced down. The skirt had bunched at her waist, leaving her folds exposed. Where the hell are my panties? She scrambled to her feet, shoving the skirt down. The scent of lavender wafted around her. But…but I didn’t… It’s not possible.
