Page 56 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

“I lied,” she said, the words unsteady but resolute. “I had to. I needed to take away his leverage—if he believed Langshire knew, then perhaps he would retreat.” She drew in a breath that did little to steady her. “But he did not retreat. And now…” She gave a faint, humorless exhale. “Now I am left with the consequences of a plan that failed.”

Her gaze lifted to his, her lashes damp with unshed tears.

A fierce, unyielding instinct rose in him at the sight. “He will not come near you,” Edwin said quietly. “Not while I am here.” The words fell from him like a vow.

And he knew—without question—that he meant them.

Eliza’s gaze shifted.

Down.

To his lips.

Just as it had before.

Every instinct he possessed warned him to stop. To step back. To end this now, before it went any further.

She was not meant for him.

He was not meant for her.

Everything about this was wrong.

And yet—

Nothing had ever felt more right.

The distant murmur of voices drifted in from the balcony. Edwin cast a brief glance toward the sound, noting that most had begun to return to the ballroom. The space around them had quieted further.

They were, for all practical purposes, alone.

He looked back at her.

Fully.

She would have to stop this. She would have to step away—

Unless—

The thought struck him with sudden clarity.

Unless she did not wish to.

The question must have shown plainly in his expression.

Eliza drew in a slow breath.

Her tongue brushed lightly over her lips.

His gaze followed the movement before he could stop himself.

They were close—

Too close.

Close enough that he could feel the faint warmth of her breath.

He should have stepped away.