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She would get her trust fund back. She could remodel her loft. Buy new equipment. Secure studio space. Market her designs and grow her business.
She was no longer obligated to marry Nathan.
Emma’s stomach muscles clenched in distress.
She loved Nathan. She might not have come to terms with marrying a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t love her, but she’d accepted that she was going to honor the bet with her father.
Now everything was different. She was free to choose whether or not to marry Nathan.
In some ways, things had gotten much worse. Free will left her wide open to mistakes.
Before coming here tonight, she’d accepted that he didn’t love her and had grown accustomed to the idea of marrying him anyway. No, more than that, a part of her wanted to be his wife. She couldn’t imagine living without him.
But if she followed her heart and married him, would she eventually grow dissatisfied and spend the rest of her life angry at herself and resenting him? All she needed was some sign, some admission, that his feelings for her were stronger than affection.
And if he didn’t love her? Was she prepared to walk away?
She stared around the bedroom. Nathan had staged the perfect romantic scene with roses, candles and chocolate-covered strawberries. She took in the unmade bed, where they’d spent the afternoon in sensual decadence, and the red roses on the dresser.
Instead of opening into full blossoms, the buds drooped on their sturdy stems. Emma knew the flowers were dying. They’d looked so beautiful, so perfect this afternoon when she and Nathan had first entered the lavish suite. But their loveliness had been an illusion. They were never going to last.
Was that a sign that she and Nathan weren’t going to last, either?
Ten
Wondering what could be keeping Emma, Nathan reentered the bedroom and found her standing, lost in thought. Taking her by the hand, he drew her into the suite’s main room, where dinner awaited. Candlelight sparkled off the cut-crystal glassware and highlighted the gold pattern on the china.
Nathan pulled out a chair and Emma sat down. His heart bucked as he knelt beside her chair, but other than that, he felt remarkably calm. This was the moment he’d been anticipating all day. “I have something for you.” Still holding her hand, he turned her palm up. “Marry me.”
Silence filled the room while Emma stared at a magnificent diamond glittering on her palm. Despite the uncertainty in her eyes, her lips twitched. “Most men propose with a ring.”
“I figured you’d rather design your own.”
“You’d be right.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” he prompted.
She closed her fingers, trapping the diamond in her fist. “Funny, I didn’t hear a question.” She raised her chin and met his gaze. The hope and wariness at war in her dark brown eyes didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. “It sounded more like a demand.”
And it had been. Nathan immediately recognized his mistake. She was a fanciful girl who believed in fairy tales. He’d offered her practicality. He turned over the hand clenched around the diamond and dusted a reverent kiss across her knuckles. “Emma Montgomery, will you marry me?”
“Can you promise me I’ll never regret it?”
“No.”
At last she smiled. But it was a pale representation of true happiness. “You could have lied and told me yes.”
“I’d rather be honest with you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I want our marriage to be based on respect and trust.”
“But if there was no deal with my father you wouldn’t be marrying me.”
“Deal or no deal, if I didn’t want to marry you, I wouldn’t.”
An intense light entered her eyes. Her whole body vibrated with tension. “Do you think you could ever love me?”
Here was the question he’d been dreading. The businessman in him counseled lying to her, but that would mean he would spend the rest of his life living a sham. He needed to be truthful, even if he risked losing her.
“I can’t promise you a happily-ever-after, but you’ll never question my commitment to you or our life together.” He released her chin to coast a gentle caress against her cheek. “Marry me.”
She deflated beneath his words. “I don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“My jewelry sold at Biella’s. It’s enough to replace all the money in my account. I won the bet with my father.” Her voice shook. “I no longer have to settle for a marriage based only on trust and respect.”
“You want love.” He dragged his hand though his hair. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
