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After Martina had berated her last night—in fact, had flayed her from head to toe—Shelene had reinforced her levees and moats against Roman’s charms. She mustn’t let him in. Oh, she mustn’t, no matter Martina’s finger-wagging.
No matter that Martina was right.
As a lady’s maid, Martina was without compare. As a specially appointed duenna and stand-in for Shelene’s mother, she could be harsh and without forgiveness. Of course, Martina had demanded Roman do the honorable thing and marry Shelene. Martina wasn’t so bold to say her words in front of Roman, though. The only thing that had saved Shelene was the fact only the three of them knew of the momentary indiscretion.
Shelene had sat without speaking, letting Martina’s anger burn out, then she crawled beneath the bed covers and thought about how her lips had tingled when Roman kissed her.
And Martina did not know Roman had proposed marriage more than once. She might have viewed him more kindly had she known and insisted more fervently that Shelene obey the dictates of society.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Shelene said. Those few words were a distraction. He was not really thinking of last night. He was thinking ahead. He was getting ready to leave her again.
“I will see that you are all aboard the first ship to Cadiz, before I leave Brest. There’s no reason to stay here any longer.”
She was surprised, but she shouldn’t have been. This week, these few days seeing Roman again, was an anomaly. One of those things that was more accident than fate. Not a cosmic convergence but a sad coincidence.
“I will hire a man to escort you,” he said absently. His eyes darted left then right, glazed with purpose.There he goes. But to where?
“That is unnecessary. I have Martina and Joaquin.” How many times had she been in this situation? “When will I see you again?”
“Tomorrow morning. At breakfast.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Roman returned from his distant thoughts, blinked a few times then stared at her, as if it were the first time he’d seen her. “I just need to know you are safe and content, Shelene, even if you are not with me.”
“You are going to South America, aren’t you? You doubt some part of Laurent’s story?”
“No, that’s not it.” He ran a hand over his head, his fingers messing his hair. A strange tell from a man so composed, so indecipherable. “I have to leave. There are duties to which I must attend.”
She clutched his arm. “Tell me.”
He placed his hand over hers and gently pried her fingers loose. “My employ requires I keep secrets. This is about more than your father and my brother.”
She had quelled her anger long enough. “Martina, please excuse us for a moment.”
“I should stay,” Martina said.
“Martina, please.” Shelene could not fight two battles at once, and this one with Roman seemed important and life-altering. Martina left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. She would be lurking nearby, ready to rescue Shelene from the undisciplined rogue the moment she heard the slightest desperate cry from her charge.
She glanced toward Roman, troubled at the truths staring in her face. “You asked me about trust, and you wonder why I am unable to take your hand in matrimony. How am I to spend my life, only knowing half of you and wondering about the other half? It is all or nothing.”
“The few days I spend with you are better than all the days of another’s life,” he said.
Roman knew how to tear her heart in two.
“I always thought I was the romantic, but it’s you, Roman, searching for your grand adventure and returning to the impatient arms of your waiting woman. Well, my arms are empty and my heart heavy. The few days I spend with you are making me bitter and lonely.”
Roman took her shoulders and gripped hard. There was a gleam she had never seen—a little crazed and a lot determined. “All right. Then today is your opportunity. We marry tomorrow. I finish my one last assignment for Bathurst and then I return to Spain to be with you. Forever.”
She stared, her mouth open. Roman also knew how to surprise her. “That wasn’t romantic at all.”
“No. It’s the realism you want. Tomorrow or never. I’m not going to wait into perpetuity. I’m not going to torture us both with unfulfilled needs and desires. You can marry anyone, yet you’ve waited. Why? We both know the answer.”
Shelene couldn’t deny his words. They were in the middle of such difficult circumstances. He couldn’t be serious now.
“It’s time to break this impasse,” he said with all seriousness.
“It’s not a game,” she pled. Could she do it? Could she trust him enough to marry today and place all her faith in the hope he would come back to her this one last time? Her being yearned for him. Even now the pull of attraction was nearly impossible to ignore, her body practically arching toward his.
