Page 31 of Sinfully Daring

Louis’ breath snagged in his throat, and he made a harsh sound of exclamation, beyond words. There would never be words enough to express how it felt, to hear her tell him that, the words he had needed to hear for so long now.

Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her cheek and kissed away the tear, tasting salt. He heard her soft intake of breath as his lips trailed across to her mouth and he kissed her, gently, so, so sweetly, as he ought to have kissed her at Fort William when the devil inside him had gained control. He lashed that wicked part of him down now, holding it in check, to give her this as she deserved, infinitely patient, achingly tender. She sighed, sliding her arms about his waist, pressing herself closer.

Louis suppressed a groan, suddenly rivetingly aware she was naked beneath her nightgown and wrap. There were no thick layers of skirts and petticoats, no corset to protect her body from his questing hands. He broke the kiss, putting a little distance between them before things got out of control.

“Evie,” he said, grasping her wrists when she went to reach for him, to pull him back to her. “Wait.”

He smiled at her and kept hold of one hand, tugging her farther into the room and getting her to sit on the bed. Heart thudding an uncomfortable tattoo, he knelt before her, taking her hands in his.

“Evie, my love. My life. I know I am not the good, decent man you want me to be, I am far from that, but I will give you everything, if would you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, her mouth falling open on a gasp of surprise. She had not expected this tonight, he realised, and why should she? Evie had told him many times she was not ready to marry, but he must persuade her now. He must make her see that there was no choice for them. If they were to be together, it was the only way. Louis watched her, a little wary now.

“Evie?”

She still said nothing, but her chest rose and fell too fast. “My father will never allow it, Louis. He’s forbidden me to even be your friend,” she said, clearly agitated, and then she sprang to her feet, pacing the room. Louis rose too, following her.

“We do not need his permission,” Louis retorted, unable to keep the irritation from his voice. “We will elope, we can go to Gretna Green, or to France. I know how to disappear so that even he will not find us.”

Louis did not underestimate what he was asking her to do. For Evie, family was everything, the trust and loyalty she had in them, her foundation. He understood that, because he wanted it too, wanted that from her, that sense of solidity, of security, but he would still ask her to betray it, for him.

She turned back to him, regret in her eyes. “Louis, I c-can’t, not yet. I’m not ready for this. It’s… It’s too much. It’s all happening too quickly. I did not think to marry for several years yet. You know that. I’ve told you before now.”

“Yet you were ready to give Mr Anderson an answer.” Louis regretted the words and his harsh tone the moment they left his mouth, but he could not take them back.

Evie stiffened. “I promised you I would accept no one. I had no intention of marrying anyone at once. Even my parents suggested a long engagement, perhaps two years, and that seemed a good idea. Florence was two and twenty when she married. I’m only nineteen!”

“Twenty in a few days,” he said darkly, folding his arms.

She made an exasperated sound. “And what of all my father said about you? What of everything you have not yet explained? For I suspect there is a great deal you’ve not yet told me.” She ran back to him, and her expression softened as she reached up, touching her hand to his cheek, a soothing caress that made him shiver with longing. “I meant what I said, Louis. I love you. I do. But you… you frighten me. The things you have done, all the things I do not know about you—”

“You don’t trust me.”

The words were stark, and he felt suddenly hollow, like he might shatter at the slightest touch.

“It’s not that, at least, not precisely that,” she said, her voice gentle. “But I don’t know what our life would look like, what to expect, and yet you want me to run away from my home, from everything I know and marry you, even after everything you have admitted tonight? That’s not fair, Louis.”

Louis’ jaw clenched and he fought to listen to her words, to understand what she was saying when disappointment at her reaction warred with everything he was so close to having. “And if I said I would wait for you, if you gave me your promise to marry me, would you answer me now? Would you say yes?” he demanded, the hard note in his voice betraying his unease.

Anxiety flickered in her eyes, and she did not need to speak the words aloud for him to hear her answer. She feared the future with him, feared what kind of life he would take her too, and who could blame her? He had just confessed to murder, and that was hardly all of it.

Louis raked a hand through his hair, holding onto his sanity by a thread as the future unravelled before his eyes. “And if I told you everything? If I gave you all of me, Evie? If I held nothing back?”

She slid her arms about his waist. “I want you, Louis. I love you, but I need to believe we have a future together. If I make a mistake, we will both be miserable. Knowing your past would be a good start, I think. I need to know I can trust you.”

“You think you can’t?” he repeated, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then took a breath and tried again. “You’ve never been faithful to anyone, Louis. Mistresses come and go, and you don’t even blink. You’ve never loved anyone of them, never cared for them. You grow bored with them in a few months, weeks sometimes. Perhaps you will grow tired of me?”

He shook his head angrily, words bubbling up so fast he could not grasp at the ones he wanted, too frustrated by this entire conversation.

“I’m not exciting, Louis. Not sophisticated or worldly.” She blinked, her eyes shining too bright. “I’m afraid I’ll bore you.”

His frustration vanished in an instant when he saw the fear in her eyes, the vulnerability. He had been so swamped with his own fears and needs that he had not considered that she might fear holding him. He almost laughed. Dieu, if she knew, if she truly understood the power she held over him, she need never worry.

“Evie,” he said, pulling her closer to him, but for once, words failed him as desire rose.

He had wanted her too much for too long and she was here, in his arms. Her body was warm and soft beneath the fine fabric of her nightclothes, and it would be so easy, so deliciously easy, to take what he wanted.