“Oh, but I love him!”she had said.
Melanie inwardly flinched at the recollection. And yet, if Reed hadn’t believed her, he’d have sent her away, regardless of the consequences to himself.
As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she’d slipped past Mr. Chesterfield and, for the second time in two weeks, made her way on foot to theDomus. She certainly couldn’t have had this conversation at home, where any member of her family might be lingering just beyond the door.
Still, she’d never imagined having it in one of his… boudoirs.
Trying to ignore their surroundings, she took a deep breath. “It would still be temporary—fake.” She saw doubt flicker in his expression, and before she could stop herself, she rushed on. “I mean, I know how this must sound, but?—”
“It’s not that.” He cut her off, his expression twisting, almost wincing.
Of the two of them, she should have been the one blushing. Yet here he was, gaze shifting away.
“I’m not an affectionate person,” he finally said, his voice low, reluctant.
“But you are,” she countered, her surprise mingling with her words. “I’ve seen it,” she insisted, “with Ernest. You are gentle with him, even… tender.”
He arched a brow, his eyes finding hers once again, and suddenly, the awareness she’d been trying to ignore since the moment he’d pulled her into this room flared. Her breath caught, and her knees felt as if they might simply give way.
“This,” he replied slowly, gesturing between the two of them while holding her gaze meaningfully, “isn’t quite the same.”
The glint in his eye made her pulse race all over again.
Because right now, “this” felt so tangible she could practically cut it with a knife.
“Yes, well…” She cleared her throat, attempting to rally her thoughts. “We might simply follow the example that Reed and Goldie set in public. That should be easy enough.”
The duke simply stared at her. And then he cocked a brow. “So, I am now expected to mimic… Standish?”
Right, the two of them had a history. He would have to get past that eventually if they were to pull this off. “Yes. If thetonwere to see us… together—" Her throat tightened, but she pushed on. "Acting like a true couple…”
“It could dispel the notion that our engagement is merely strategic,” he finished for her.
“Yes,” she answered.
In reality, of course, itwasa strategic maneuver. But it had to look real—otherwise…
She refused to contemplate the alternative.
And after Reed’s display of stubborn pride this morning, she knew it wasn’t only thetonthey’d need to convince. If her family did not believe that she was, in fact, in love with this man, she might find herself riding out of town in a carriage by this time tomorrow.
“You think a public display of… affection would satisfy them?” Malum asked.
Her breath hitched, and she nodded.
His gaze flicked to her lips, then back up. “What, exactly, would that entail?”
“Well, we would have to act like—” She swallowed an unexpected and unwelcome bubble of giddiness. “Like two people… in love.”
When had he moved to be standing so close?
She held her breath when he lifted a hand as if to brush her cheek, his fingers suspended in midair, just shy of her skin. “Like this?”
She felt her lungs hitch, but she forced a slight smile, one that didn’t betray that anxious feeling thrumming beneath her skin. “Perhaps,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
Malum’s hand hesitated,the faintest twitch betraying his instinct to reach for her. But then he let it drop, curling his fingers tightly into his palm. Her unguarded eyes held a quiet shock she barely seemed aware of—mixed with something else. Intrigue. Perhaps even the slightest flicker of excitement. But she was an innocent young woman, standing in a brothel of all places. He couldn’t, wouldn’t.
Not here. Not with her.
