“I think I got a pretty good idea last night. Wild pleasure, a man who desires me for who I am.” She canted her head. “I suppose I’ll have to suffer.”
“Far be it for me to argue if you think you got yourself a bargain,” he muttered. “What I don’t understand is why you haven’t married before this. Surely you’ve had offers.”
His confidence that she’d received proposals flattered her.
“I’m hardly a Diamond of the First Water, and despite the matches made by my siblings, I’m a middling class miss when it comes down to it,” she said earnestly. After a pause, she added, “Then there’s my condition. Gentlemen who have shown interest want to treat me like a porcelain doll. An ornament. That’s not who I am at all and not the sort of wife I want to be.”
He frowned. “You’re gorgeous, passionate, and sweet. Everything a man could want.”
As thrilled as she was by his praise, she couldn’t squelch a bubble of doubt. “You used to think I was too delicate for you.”
“The problem was with me, not you. I thought my desires were too much for any virgin.” Before she could argue, he amended, “Until you proved me wrong. I think some part of me recognized that you were my match from the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“You remember when we met?” she said breathlessly.
“Your sister’s engagement party. You were playing a sonata.” His lips curved. “I got aroused just listening to you.”
Her eyes widened. “You did?”
“I wanted to take you then and there,” he said ruefully. “To strip you bare and lay you on the piano, see your soft white skin against the dark wood. I wanted to take my time kissing and touching you… everywhere. And you would lie there and let me do anything I wanted.”
She was having trouble breathing. Her nipples tingled; her pussy dampened.
His eyes had a knowing gleam. “At the same time, you reminded me of the princess in the tower. Out of my reach.”
“And now?” she dared to ask.
He fingered a loose curl at her temple, his touch proprietary. “I have something to discuss with you, Thea. Something I ought to have said last night.”
Her heart began to drum. Was he about to officially propose?
“Yes?” she managed.
“It concerns marriage. To be honest, before you I’d never thought to marry again. I’m not a man suited for that sort of union—”
“I don’t agree,” she protested.
“Let me finish. I’m not an easy man, and my past—well, you know what it is. Then there are my proclivities in the bedchamber.” His gaze was steady on hers. “But you’ve seemed to take all of that in stride, so the future lays before us. There is a matter, however, that I feel we must address. It concerns love.”
This was more like it. Her pulse aflutter, she said, “Yes?”
“I don’t believe it has a place in marriage,” he said.
She had the sensation of plunging into an abyss. “I… I don’t understand.”
“Excessive emotion can handicap a marriage and lead to disappointment. I speak from experience,” he said quietly, “and it is a mistake I’ll not make again.”
“Are you referring to your first marriage?” she said uncertainly.
He gave a curt nod. “As I’ve said, I will not dishonor my deceased wife by discussing details. But love did not serve us well. I’m ill-suited for strong emotion. Perhaps that is due to my time as an agent—but that is neither here nor there. If I were to marry again, I would wish to set clear expectations.”
Thea’s head was spinning. “What sort of expectations?”
“That my wife and I share physical desire. That we are committed to the same goals: raising a family, making a home of the estate. And that we are honest with one another and develop trust over time.”
Slowly, some of Thea’s anxiety eased. With the exception of his caveat on love, his description sounded almost exactly like what she wanted. Perhaps this was merely an issue in semantics.
“What about fidelity?” she said cautiously.
