She searched his smoldering gaze. They’d never kissed, all those years ago. Then, when he proposed, he said it would be wrong to kiss her before getting permission to marry her from her father. That had never happened. Devon was whisked away, out of her life, and her father was gone. Now, instead of speeches of honor, Devon asked for a clandestine kiss in a library. Was he the same young man who’d once professed his love?
Her eyes went to his lips. No one had ever kissed her. Did Devon need to be exactly as he’d been in their youth? He was Devon, and she loved him. That had never, would never, change. She gave the tiniest nod.
“This is my reward for always lingering in the library,” he murmured, and lowered his head toward hers. “A beautiful woman to kiss.”
Emily pulled back. He’d said it again, that he always waited in the library. Prudence’s smug face appeared in her mind. Prudence had known. Why else be so smug?
“Notawoman,” she said. “Me. Emily. This is a cruel game, waiting in the library to kiss unsuspecting misses.”
Devon blinked, expression baffled. “No, Em. It’s always been you.”
More lies. “Except it hasn’t, has it?” She jerked free of him and backed toward the open door. “There have been plenty of others. Everyone knows what a rake you are.” He’d confirmed it to her face, moments ago. What did she think, he had reformed after three years, simply because she’d arrived in London? She might forgive him a past, but she refused to forsake her future.
“Was,” he said, his arms half raised, as if he would reclaim her. “I was a rake, once.”
“Yet, you linger in the library waiting for beautiful women.” She retreated another step.
“It was a compliment. You’re beautiful. You must know that. Even more so now than ever.” He pushed a hand through his hair, his look one of mingled frustration and confusion.
“I can’t kiss you, Devon. I don’t know what kind of man you are.”
“But you do know. You’ve known me nearly all my life.”
“Not for the last three years. Not the devil you’ve become.”
“Emily, please,” he pleaded. His pretense of sincerity knifed through her. “I’ve waited for you for so long.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t do it, wouldn’t. Kissing a Devon who lingered in the library waiting for fresh-faced misses to arrive would break her heart. She would never reclaim the pieces. Emily whirled and fled the library—and the temptation of his arms.
