“Are you awake?” he murmured into her hair.
She nodded. “But I’m not ready to leave this bed.”
He hoped she never would.
Now that he’d committed to pursuing this path, he was at a loss as to what the right words were. What was the proper post-coital procedure to broach the topic of wedding someone you had never officially entered courtship with?
“Felicity,” he began tentatively. “I really like you.”
Smiling, she turned so that their foreheads touched. “I like you, too.”
“Let’s get married,” he blurted.
There. The words were out. They had an impact, all right.
Just not the intended one.
He wasn’t sure what stung worse: her involuntary wince at the idea, or theoh god what do I do nowterror in her eyes.
“If you’re uninterested, just say so,” he said stiffly. “Put me out of my misery.”
“I’m extremely interested,” she said. “Close to obsession, really. You’re all I ever think about. But… I can’t.”
Elation at her reciprocated interest crashed into the brick wall of rejection.
He tried to understand. “We just—”
“I know.” She looked tortured. “But no one else has to. Just like I can’t tell anyone I wear lads’ clothing and work on carriages.”
“You told me,” he pointed out. “I like it. I likeyou.”
“It’s not that simple.” She bit her lip, her brown eyes pained. “Yesterday, I… That is, Lord Raymore…”
Giles sprang upright, wounded arm be damned.
“You’re betrothed to someone else?” he burst out in shock and disbelief.
“Not yet,” she said at once, then lowered her gaze. “But that’s the path I’m on. It’s… not aboutyou…”
“Then why are youhere?” he demanded. “In my house. In my bed.”
Her eyes filled with grief. “Giles…”
“Do you love him?” he asked quietly.
“I loveyou,” she answered. Her eyes begged for him to believe her.
But if true, it only made him hurt worse.
He backed away from the bed until his head touched the wall and there was nowhere else to go.
She had a better offer. A titled lord with piles of gold and a collection of fancy estates. And the blackguard wasnice. How was he supposed to compete with that?
“Is that what you want?” he asked hoarsely.
Of course it was. She’d told him so a hundred times.
“Is it what youstillwant?” he corrected. “A man who meets your criteria, but doesn’t hold your heart?”
