Firm footsteps had her look up; Dorian quietly handed her a glass. “Sip it slowly. Spanish wine is very potent.”
Gazing at the rich red depths, she asked, “What exactly are you asking of me?”
Swirling his wine, he said, “I need you to help me reconstruct my position in the ton. The balls that I will approve of you attending, have ladies, matriarchs, dowagers, what have you, who uphold the swing of the social narrative. You’ll need to sway them into more favorable views of me.”
She arched a brow. “And what redeeming quality should I tell them? Have you rescued drowning puppies? Do you have a school charity fund set up, or are you sponsoring young men to trade school? Should I tell them about yourincandescentpersonality?”
“Whatever you wish,” he grinned wolfishly.
“Or, maybe you should actually create either of them?” Ellie suggested, tapping the quill against her hand. “Altruism is a very positive thing to sway people to your side.”
“I’ll take that into advisement,” he said. “So far, your rules are to find this Ash, feast together, and to not take your innocence. Is that all you want?”
She looked down at her scant list. “What more can there be?”
“A monthly allowance, funds to buy whatever gown, shoe, ribbon, or whatever frippery your sex falls head over heels for,” Dorian offered, swirling his drink.
The fire was dying down, and the shadows began to creep over his face, concealing half of it. “A carriage or four, maybe a townhome of your own? I have more than a few.”
Knowing that this marriage was not real, his suggestion sparked the practical side of her. “I’d like two, one to live in and the other to let for income.”
His dark chuckle sent shivers over her skin, “Such a naïf. You’ll have more than enough income, but whatever you wish. You will have two and a sensible carriage.”
“You’ll open an orphanage,” she said.
His repartee was quick, “You’ll let me kiss you.”
“Thank y—” Evelina broke off with a gasp as his words finally landed. “What?”
CHAPTER 9
“Isee I have shocked you,” Dorian said, his grin turning devilish as he slipped even closer to her.
“Of course you have,” she replied. “And no, you certainly will not be kissing me. Do I look the sort to be giving out kisses freely, to anyone who asks?”
He laughed, “I forgot I was dealing with an innocent.”
Ellie had had enough. She wouldn’t be standing for this anymore. In a fit of pique, she swallowed what was left of her wine—was it really that little left—and stood, only to trip over her feet and crash, utterly ungainly, on her knees before Dorian’s.
The only thing that stopped her from slamming her head on the armchair was his firm grip, anchoring her while her head swam.
“This is certainly not how I usually have women on their knees,” he muttered.
His meaning escaped her.
Bracing his feet on the other side of her, Dorian gently stood and took her with him. “I should add featherweight to your list of charms.”
Dimly, Ellie realized they were moving, and she craned her head to him. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to your rooms.” Dorian stopped to haul Ellie into a bridal carry. “There. Much better.”
The subtle scent of his skin pervaded her senses; he wore no perfume, smelling of clean soap and his own male musk—an unsettling, arousing combination. Their gazes held when he set her down on the edge of the bed.
“Take care not to roll off the bed,” he suggested, stepping away.
She rolled her neck. “And here I thought you would offer to help me undress.”
His brows lifted. “Do you want me to?”
