He showed her his pistol.
Looking unimpressed, she crossed her arms. “Why are you following me?”
“I was patiently awaiting the opportunity to speak with you.”
“Really? You were hardly in the sharing mood the last time we were together. For all I knew, you had already left for London.”
“Still miffed about that, are you?”
“I am not miffed. I am furious. There is a difference.”
He wished she wasn’t so adorable when she was angry. It didn’t bode well for her in their future arguments. Instead of getting her point across, she was making him harder than rock.
“Look, duchess, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” he began. “But I wasn’t about to expose my secrets to a room full of strangers.”
“They aren’t strangers. They are my family.”
“They are strangers to me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I will admit that I did not handle the situation well. After the near collision with a thousand-pound statue, I was not at my best. Overhearing your papa’s opinion of me made matters worse, but I had no excuse for going in with fists swinging.”
“No, you did not.” Gigi paused. “But thank you for the apology.”
“Do you forgive me?” He moved toward her.
“Not so fast.”
She planted her hand in his chest, and even that small touch set him afire. The close brush with death had made him re-evaluate his life, particularly the part involving Gigi. After a day to think, he’d concluded that he wasn’t falling for her…the deed was done. He was in love with Gigi. There was no other explanation for the way she made him feel. For the way he craved her loyalty and tenderness. The way he wanted to claim her smiles, tears, and everything in between. She was the one he wanted to go through life with, to grow old with, to build a family with.
Yes, he loved his little nymph. This was convenient because he wanted to screw her senseless as well, and even he wouldn’t stoop to debauching a virginal lady. He would marry her, the sooner the better.
All he had to do was get her to say yes.
“There is more to talk about,” she said firmly.
“I love you, Gigi.”
Her jaw slackened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. I’ve been struck by Cupid’s arrow. I’ve succumbed to the gentlest affliction.”
“Are you comparing me to a sickness?” She drew her brows together.
“Well, you are like an ailment, aren’t you?” He gave her a slow, wicked smile. “You make me so hot I feel as if I’ve come down with a fever.”
“Smoothly done, Godwin.” A smile tugged at her lips.
“I was going to wait until I returned from London to do this, but I think I must ask you now. Will you marry me, Gigi?”
Seeing the bright longing in her eyes, he felt a burst of triumph. She hadn’t said it yet, but he knew he had her heart. Her kinfolk hadn’t been able to wrestle that from him, no matter how hard they tried.
She drew a breath. “It depends.”
“Name your terms,” he said confidently. “I’ll meet them.”
“I want answers to my questions.”
Since he was prepared for this, he said, “Fire away, sweetheart.”
“Do you know who is trying to kill you?”
