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‘What about love?’
Gabe shook his head. ‘Love isn’t in the equation. It’s not a factor. It’s not on the table because I neither require love nor offer it. I believe my alliance is more likely to endure without it. Bottom line, love is not relevant.’
She couldn’t help but wonder why he believed that. Of course he needed to marry—she understood that—but it all sounded so clinical. Presumably the Duke and Duchess had made an ‘alliance’, and expected their son and heir to do the same. Yet Gabriel wouldn’t bow to their wishes if he didn’t want to—ergo, he was more than happy to comply. And yet...
‘Is this what you want, though? A cold-blooded alliance? It seems a far cry from “having fun, enjoying yourself, no strings attached”. What about liking and physical attraction and warm, passionate women?’
‘Of course liking is important, and so is physical attraction. But long-term I need someone who shares my goals and understands that there is more to life than my “shallow playboy” existence. So I’ll be offering something different to my wife and expecting something different from what I get from my flings.’
‘But...’ It still seemed wrong.
Leaning over, he topped up their wine glasses. ‘Enough of my attitude to love and marriage,’ he said. ‘What about yours?’
Etta took a sip of the golden liquid with its overtones of elderflower and narrowed her eyes. Botheration! The last thing she wanted was to discuss her inadequacy, her missing gene, her inability to connect romantically. Yet she’d sat here and interrogated Gabe on his attitude to love without compunction. Fair was fair.
CHAPTER SEVEN
GABE CRADLED HIS wine glass, watched the swirl of emotions crossing Etta’s face—the crease of her brow, the angle of her cheekbone, the quick gesture to tuck a tendril of chestnut hair behind her ear—and wondered how a business dinner had morphed into this. Perhaps he should shut this down now, but he didn’t want to—he welcomed the distraction from his own thoughts and the prospect of his marriage.
It was a merger that would now have a key component missing. Children. His hopes and expectations had dissipated to dust, but marriage was still a necessity. The manor would need a duchess and if—no, when—he found another heir, that man’s wife would need a role model. Because Gabe had every intent of persuading this heir to take his duties and responsibilities seriously; he owed it to his name, to the estate, to find a way forward. But tonight he wanted to forget that.
‘When you’re ready.’
Her shoulders lifted. ‘My attitude to love and marriage is easy enough to encapsulate. They aren’t for me.’
‘Why not?’ Surprise made him raise his eyebrows—somehow he’d expected someone as vital as Etta Mason to embrace love. Assumed her antipathy to a short-term fling sprang from a desire for a waltz over the happy-ever-after horizon.
‘I’m not made that way. I’m truly happier on my own. I’m in charge—I don’t have to ask anyone’s permission or compromise in any way at all. If I want to get home and change into my PJs, curl up on the sofa and watch a history film and eat cereal I can.’
‘So you’re choosing sugar-coated flakes over sex, love, and companionship?’
‘No! I’m choosing independence and being happy on my own over the pointless pursuit of romance.’
‘How can you know it’s pointless?’
‘Because I’ve tried. For a while I felt that I needed to find a man and marry him for Cathy’s sake, so she could have a dad. But then I realised that wouldn’t be fair to anyone. Most of all me. I prefer to be on my own. I’ve done just fine without a man in my life.’
As if realising she might be protesting too much, she sat back and then picked up her knife and fork to pierce her last piece of fish.
‘Maybe you haven’t met the right man yet. Every man isn’t a Tommy.’
‘I know that. This is nothing to do with Tommy. I know most men are decent individuals. I liked a lot of my dates—I’m still friends with a couple of them and I happily danced at their weddings. But romance isn’t my thing and I’m OK with that. I like my independence.’
‘I get that, but...’ But he couldn’t help but wonder if, for Etta, independence equalled safety, and whether her willingness to give up on all aspects of a relationship was due to the damage Tommy had inflicted.
‘But what?’
There was pride in her voice, as if she dared him to pity her.
‘I think it’s a waste. I think you’re missing out. You’ve decided against long and short-term relationships.’
‘I haven’t decided anything. It’s just how the custard cream has crumbled.’
‘Maybe because you’re dating the wrong type of guy?’
‘So let me guess... You think I should be dating a guy like you?’
Gabe shrugged. ‘Why not? If romance isn’t for you maybe you should consider what someone like me can offer. Instead of dating the type of guys you think you should be with.’
