"Here," she said, pointing to the Irish Sea. "The monk has exaggerated the Roman's account, or perhaps the Roman himself was embellishing his exploits. Either way, it's geographically impossible."
"Unless," Dominic countered, his finger tracing a coastline near her own, "the Roman was referring to watching from atopthe highest hills in Wales on an exceptionally clear day, when atmospheric conditions might allow such a sight."
June looked up at him, finding his face mere inches from her own. "Even then, the curvature of the earth would prevent it. It's simple mathematics."
"Mathematics being your specialty as well as ancient languages?" His blue eyes held a challenge that made her pulse quicken.
"I contain multitudes," June replied, holding his gaze. "Are you willing to wager on your Roman's veracity?"
"What stakes did you have in mind?" Dominic asked, his voice dropping lower.
June straightened, putting a deliberate few inches between them. "If I can prove definitively that this passage contains a factual error, you must fund an archaeological dig on the Roman ruins your grandfather discovered."
"And if you cannot?" Dominic's expression grew mischievous.
"Then I shall allow you to teach me to ride your most spirited horse." She raised her chin, knowing full well that her horsemanship skills were middling at best.
"A bold wager," he said, his eyes traveling over her face with undisguised appreciation. "Very well, I accept."
They leaned over the map again, shoulders touching as they debated distances and sightlines, each bringing evidence to support their position. June felt a thrill that had nothing to do with ancient texts and everything to do with the intellectual sparring between them. Never before had a man engaged with her mind so directly, treated her scholarly opinions with such genuine respect.
So engrossed was she in their debate that she barely noticed how their faces had drawn closer again, until she could feel his breath against her cheek. She turned to make another point and found his lips a mere whisper away from her own. Her breath caught as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
For a heartbeat, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, Dominic pulled back slightly, a rueful smile playing across his lips.
"I believe we must establish a new rule," he said, his voice husky.
June blinked, struggling to shift her thoughts from the almost-kiss back to their conversation. "A rule?"
"Yes." Dominic straightened, though his eyes never left hers. "You must explicitly invite me to kiss you. And certainly," his voice dropped lower, sending a shiver down her spine, "invite me to your chambers before I will do anything more."
Heat rushed to June's cheeks, but she recovered quickly. "I see. And if I issue no such invitation?"
"Then I shall wait," he said simply. "No matter how tempting you may be."
June tilted her head, studying him. "That could be a very long wait, Your Grace. Or perhaps you'll simply break your rule, as you did that night at Stone Manor."
"Ah, but that was before I made the rule," he countered, the corner of his mouth lifting.
"Indeed." June stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat of his body. "And now we are married as a result of your inability to resist."
Something darkened in Dominic's eyes—desire mingled with another emotion she couldn't quite name. He raised his hand, his thumb brushing across her lower lip in a touch so light it might have been imaginary.
"Perhaps I simply wish to hear you say the words," he murmured.
Before she could respond, he stepped away, a wicked grin replacing the intensity of moments before. "I'll leave you to your research, June. I have estate matters to attend to, but I look forward to resolving our wager at dinner."
He strode from the library, leaving June standing by the ancient map, her lips still tingling from his touch and the wager hanging unresolved between them.
The following afternoon, June found herself alone with Louisa in the elegant drawing room while Dominic attended to estate matters. As Louisa poured their tea, it struck June as surreal given the circumstances of her hasty marriage and the lingering questions about Dominic's health that she had yet to voice aloud.
"Two sugars, if I recall correctly?" Louisa asked, her slender fingers poised with the silver tongs.
"Yes, thank you," June replied, accepting the delicate porcelain cup. "The china is beautiful. Meissen?"
"Indeed. My husband brought it back from his travels when we were first married." Louisa's expression softened at the memory. "He had such an eye for beauty."
"Dominic mentioned that parts of the castle were renovated during your husband's time as duke."
