He sounded so. . .agonized, she idly thought.Was he—? Did he—?
The flicker of an idea illuminated the haze in her brain, and she broke away from the kiss.
“Marry me,” she said.
He was breathing hard. He stared down at her.“Oh God.”
“You repeatedly implore me to pull the advertisement. You’ve said you are desperate for the money.”
“I’ve saidI’m not that desperate.”
“Aren’t you?” She was breathing hard.
“No,” he said, but the conviction sounded forced. His hands loosened on her body.
She would not beg him; she wouldn’t even ask him again, but she could not resist adding, “It’s only pride that prevents you.”
“Yes,” he said, and his face took on a pained expression, “and thank God I have a scrap of it left.” His arms slid away, and he took a step back. “In case you weren’t aware, everything just became ten times more complicated.” He touched a finger to his lips and turned away.
“It was always complicated.”
He exhaled sharply and grabbed the back of his head with both hands. “What have I done?” he asked. He turned back to her and said. “I came here to tell you good-bye.”
“Which you’ve done, several times.”
“Yes, but I’ve not actually gone, have I?” He looked around, as if searching for something. “No, I have not. I’ve done the opposite—worse than the opposite.” He glanced at her and began to pace. “Laugh if you will, but my actions, as inexcusable as they have been, are but a fraction of what most strange men will do if you carry on in this manner. You’re . . . you’re utterly unsupervised here.” He walked to the first window and followed the curved line of paned glass, like a fish circling a bowl.
She turned to watch him. “That may well be, but Iwantno supervision.” He opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. “And not for the freedom to cavort around London with lovers. Freedom towork. I don’t require supervision. I’m not a child.”
“Of this, I am well aware.” He shot her a heated look, his gaze roaming from her body. Her belly flipped, and she felt an unaccustomed stab of desire. Willow blinked and raised her chin.
“I’m leaving,” he announced, resuming his prowl, “and I won’t be back. I believe we’ve said all available words on the matter.” When he came to the glass-paned terrace door, he stopped and tested the knob. The door yawned open to the cool morning. He remained where he stood and slammed it shut.
She watched his struggle. He’d said no in so many different ways she’d lost count.
He went on, “Marrying a stranger for dowry money is utterly out of the question.” He embarked on another lap of the room. He was a tiger in a cage.
Willow said, “Perhaps you should reconvene with your partners to gauge their current feeling on the matter.”
“You’ve selective hearing,” he said. “Or perhaps you think I’m coming ’round.”
“What I think,” she said, gathering her nerve, “is that you do notnotlike me.”
He stopped walking. He was behind her now.
“Is that what you think?” he whispered.
She turned to watch him close the distance, two long strides. Willow did not fall back. Moth wings rioted in her belly.
“Yes,” she whispered, looking up at him, “it is.”
She saw conflict in his eyes, a struggle, and then he swept her to him again. “Thatis an understatement,” he said and dropped his head.
***
Cassin could not keep his hands off this woman, and it made no bloody sense. He had never lacked self-control, not ever; it was one of his most steadfast qualities, along with making prudent choices and distrusting people he’d only known for one bloody day.
She was archly beautiful, of course; that was indisputable—and not beautiful in a way that suggested, “Oh, look, a pretty girl.” She was beautiful in the way that stopped him dead and caused his eyes to blur, focus, and blur again, momentarily blotting out all thought. She was markedly, distinctly unlike anything he’d seen before. She was also clever and an irresistible balance of self-assured and uncertain. She thought very little of brokering her own businesslike marriage, but at the same time, she also doubted her own significant appeal to all of mankind.
