Afterward, when she lay there panting, he pressed his lips to her neck. He nipped her there in lazy tastes as he brought his mouth to her ear.
“I cannot wait to make you my wife,” he said.
Her breath caught. “Wife?” she whispered.
He pulled back, his gaze luminous. “Of course.”
Not.
No.
Never.
She knew this is what he wanted, but the reality of it hit her broadside. Not his desires, but hers. She never wanted to be a wife again.
“Diana?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lucas was nota man given to doubts. Though he often wondered about his worth in God’s eyes, he did not question his worth from the world’s perspective. Especially since his family now knew he was alive. He was Lord Chellam again and would one day become the Earl of Wolvesmead. The idea that the lady of his choice would not agree to marry him never entered his thoughts. And even if it had, the lady he wanted was right now in his arms. She had begged him to make love to her. And he had brought her to fullness twice this night.
And yet, he could see by her expression that she would refuse him.
“Lucas,” she said. She licked her lips, and her gaze darted away from him. She meant to roll out of his arms, but he held her tight. “Lucas, I am just now widowed.”
“And we will wait for an appropriate amount of time. But this I swear to you—”
“I will not be forced into marriage again, no matter what you swear!”
He swallowed his temper. “You just this night said you chose me.”
She sighed. “Do not be dense. I meant for this night. For this pleasure.”
“And you assumed that I would pleasure you without thought to our wedding?”
“Yes!”
“No.”
Her head dropped back, and she looked at the ceiling. “There is not a man among the peerage who does not look for a wealthy widow to bed with no thought of marriage.”
He snorted. “There is one. Me.”
“Just my luck.”
He didn’t respond to her dry tone. It hurt to hear it. He had no wish to continue the conversation. He released her and reset his attire. He threw his handkerchief in the bucket and would see that it was disposed of in a private way. Meanwhile, she drew the covers up until he could see no more than her face and the wild crown of her hair. Beautiful, but defensive.
“Be reasonable, Lucas. I have not had a great deal of time to think of my future.”
“That’s a lie,” he accused. “You do nothing but think of the future.” He was standing beside her bed and now dropped his hands on his hips. “Is it the money? I have savings, and my title carries funds as well. I do not know the particulars, but I can keep you in good style.”
She sat up, obviously offended. “I have my own savings,” she snapped. “But if you want to think of estates, then recall that the people here are under my care until I wed. Upon that day, everything here returns to Geoffrey’s exploitation.” She shook her head. “Ireland has suffered greatly. I will not leave them to his mercy.”
He had forgotten that detail in the heat of the moment. Damn it. She always had a reason to deny him. “And if the problem of Geoffrey could be resolved? Would you marry me then?”
The way her gaze slid away was answer enough, but she made it worse by trying to explain. “I have just now gained my freedom.”
“Marriage to me is not prison.”
