“This I must hear.”
She set her empty glass on the low table between them and shifted her gaze to his. “It involves a little subterfuge.” The distinct hint of a challenge issued. “Just a tad,” she assured him.
He was not reassured. “Like wehaven’tbeen doing to date,” he stated matter-of-factly.
Her arms flew in the air. Had she been standing, she would have spun in a giddy twirl. “It’s been exhilarating!”
She grinned, and he wanted to shake her. Then kiss her. Make love to her. Then shake her again.
Her hands fell back to her lap. “But, alas, it’s too dangerous, as you say.”
His skin prickled with anticipation and anxiety at what scheme that busy brain of hers was conjuring. “I find I fear asking of this strategy,” he said lightly, fully aware he’d regret it.
“Um, yes…well, we, um, might pretend ourselves enamored with one another, and voilà”—she gestured vaguely through the air—“you’d be invited to all the same events. Your ties to the earl of Hallandale ensure your respectability…” Her voice trailed off, and he found her watching him, cheeks pink—waiting. “It is, well, it’s a brilliant idea,” she insisted with a tilt of her stubborn chin.
Good God…she was serious. Only he didn’t…hate the idea. What of her hopes of landing a titled gentleman? Her willingness to risk her reputation in a public declaration, humbled him enough to enter Society. On her arm.
His gaze fell to his fists clenched on his knees to keep from reaching over and tugging her onto his lap. He flexed his fingers, then flattened them on his thighs and forced his breathing to steady.
No, he didn’t hate the idea. Anything but.
~~~
He hated the idea.
But blast it, it was the only thing Rose could think of to remain close to him. No, not that…the Adventurous Rose forced herself to honesty…well, yes…that.
The thought nearly suffocated her and she quickly latched onto the benefits. That Emerson would be allowed through the doors of peerage homes without suspicion and would keep herself from being banned outright from Society.
Now that the idea had taken hold, she plowed forward. “Gabriella and Rebecca will be easy enough to fool. You did provide bolts of cloth for the young women, and they most appreciated that. Once we have the two of them convinced”—she shrugged—“Ryleigh and Huntley will fall right in line.”
His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut.
Fell open again.
There was some satisfaction in throwing this man off his game so thoroughly. But it also left her riddled with anxiety. He wasn’t her type. Not in the least. He was gruff and untitled, and he’d abandoned her after demandingshebe home to meet withhim. But he had the broadest shoulders to take on troubles she’d never imagined. And lips that tasted heavenly and tempted her so greatly it was difficult to concentrate.
And…shelikedhim. Well and truly liked him.
“All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll do it. It appears to be the only way to keep you out of trouble.”
She nearly collapsed with relief, but since she was already sitting down, there was no need. Still, this was no time to grin like a debutante who’d just secured her first dance with a marquess. “Then it’s settled,” she said, clasping her hands loosely in her lap as if this were all perfectly ordinary. “We shall appear together—just often enough to silence tongues, and never so often that anyone suspects the truth. I will, of course, set the terms.”
One dark brow lifted in another unmistakable challenge.
She hurried on before he could voice the objection already clouding his eyes. “You will, of course, escort me to a handful of events, speak to me as though you enjoy my company, and most importantly”—she speared him with a scowl—“refrain from glowering at every gentleman who ventures within six feet of me.”
“I don’t glower,” he said.
“Actually, you do,” she returned, quick as a rapier. “It’s…impressive, in its way. But not conducive to convincing Society that you are the perfect choice to have at my side. The fact that you are untitled will raise enough eyebrows.”
His jaw flexed. “And just what do I get in return for all this smiling and gallantry?”
She allowed herself the faintest smile. “Why, unimpeded access to any drawing room in the upper crest homes of London, Mr. Whitmore, without a single raised eyebrow. Precisely whatyousaidyouneed.”
In an unexpected move, he leaned forward, bracing an arm on the settee beside her hip. The sudden closeness sent something inexplicable swirling up her spine. Her breath hitched, and she prayed he hadn’t noticed.
His voice dropped, low and certain. “Make no mistake, my lady. You may set your terms, but know this:Iam the one who decides how things play out. And if you choose to tether yourself tome, you’d best prepare yourself for the consequences.”
