“Yes. Butthisis different. I’ve never”—his voice involuntarily cracked—“wanted someone...who has also wanted me.”
“Women haveeyes,duke.”
Back toduke, were they? He tried again. “I’m not just speaking of lust...I’m speaking of the way you make me feel.”
“How?” She glanced over her shoulder. “How do I make you feel?”
Oh, hell.
He remembered this experience—slowly fading hope. He’d felt similarly just before Penelope rejected his proposal. But a difference existed between what he’d felt then and what he was feeling now.
He attempted to describe the difference.
“I’m standing on a precipice, Hera. If, given just the right encouragement, I could dive down into a deeper understanding of everything I’ve thought I already understood.Youare the precipiceandthe encouragement.”
Longing flickered again in her eyes. And just as quickly, it extinguished. “I’ve seen your list of requirements. I don’t meet one.”
He frowned. “My list?”
She raised her brows.
His requirements...?Oh, God.Notthoseblasted requirements. “Howthe devil?”
“You—or one of the others—dropped the paper.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Whatever points I came up with were made inyourmirror image. I was running away from what I’d felt for you—almost instantly—in the garden. And what was then merely possibility is now a raging fire.”
She didn’t believe him, he could tell.
Her eyes narrowed. “Intelligentwas on your list.”
“Intelligent without the pretentions of a bluestocking, if I remember correctly.”
She lifted her chin. “How do you know Idon’thave bluestocking aspirations?”
“I wouldn’t care if you had! Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ve just formulated a new list.”
She glanced heavenward.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what qualifications I’ve chosen?”
“No.”
“There’s only one.” He advanced. “And myonerequirement is that my future wifemustbe Miss Hera Bythesea.”
She briefly closed her eyes. “What if I had a list, too?”
Pride made him perverse. “I imagine I could fulfill any of your prerequisites.” With an increasing sense of desperation, he tried for a jest. “What more could you wish than rich, handsome, and virile?”
Her eyes flew to his. “Virile? How would you know?”
He threw out his hands. “One hopes.”
“Have you illegitimate children?”
“No!”
“Oh, thank goodness.” She sank onto the bed. “I shouldn’t be here.” She threaded her hands into her hair. “I don’t know how we got here.”
