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‘For simple reasons,’ he told me, his voice just as cool and composed as his face. ‘I had always planned to marry at some point in the future. Contrary to my preferences on the matter, I shall not live forever, and I need an heir to my fortune. You seem as capable of producing one as any other woman of marriageable age.’
Why, thank you for the compliment, Sir. You are too kind.
‘Besides,’ a muscle in his throat moved as he swallowed. ‘After what I told you on the bridge…’
He left the sentence hanging in the air.
I promptly grabbed it and rammed it into the ground. ‘You mean the fact that you love me?’
‘Shh!’ He let go of me as if I were on fire. Hurriedly taking a step back, he glanced around to see if anyone was in hearing range. ‘Silence, Miss Linton!’
‘What?’ I blinked. ‘You mean about the fact that you’re in love with me?’
‘I said silence!’ Dear God, was it my imagination, or did Rikkard Ambrose actually look nervous? He did! Rushing to the door, he ripped it open, glanced outside and slammed it shut again. Was he checking for people listening at keyholes? Oh my Lord, this was too good! A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Capping my hands around my mouth, I took a deep, deep breath. ‘Hello? Anyone around? Mr Rikkard Ambrose loves me! He is head over heels in love with me and wants to marry me! Anyone interested? He loooves me! Would anyone like details? No? Good, but I’ll repeat it anyway just in case anyone hasn’t heard yet! He loooommmph!’
A masculine hand slapped down across my mouth.
‘Mmm! Mmmph!’
‘Miss Linton,’ he enquired in a very calm, very controlled voice. ‘Do you know the meaning of the word “discreet”?’
When he carefully removed his hand from my mouth, I told him with a cheeky smile: ‘Yes. It means “separate”.’
Cold fire flashed in his eyes. ‘You…! We’ll be lucky if no one heard you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I reassured him. ‘The walls of this house are at least as thick as your head.’
Sliding his grip from my mouth to my chin, he turned my head to face him. The cold fire was still burning bright there.
‘I want you. I even…well, you remember what I said on the bridge.’
I batted my eyelashes at him. ‘That you love me?’
‘Do not push me, Miss Linton. Don’t. Use. That. Word.’
His tone was such that, for once, I did as suggested.
‘I want you,’ he repeated. ‘I even…care for you to some extent.’
Some extent my rosy smelling foot!
‘So why not marry me? My offer is the best one you are ever likely to receive.’
Oh, thank you so much for pointing that out. That was really wonderful to hear.
‘It would be useless to deny these facts,’ he told me. ‘Marriage is the logical conclusion. Once we are wed, you will belong to me fully and completely. I will owe you my protection, and you will owe me your love and obedience. It is the perfect agreement. Why will you not consent?’
I gazed up into his cold, calm, unbelievably beautiful face and wondered how a man this intelligent could be so dense.
‘You just listed all the reasons,’ I whispered. ‘There’s more to life than belonging to a man. I will not sign my freedom over to anyone - not even you.’
Especially not you. Because you’re the one person that might be able to make me forget to regret.
His grip tightened. His eyes bored into me with renewed force, trying to subdue me with sheer force of will - and nearly succeeding. ‘Marry me!’
I swallowed. I had to gather all my strength to squeeze out the one syllable that saved my life and chipped a tiny, but very important piece off my heart.
