“Not as far as Iwillgo, once you’re mine.”
The words hit his ears with the force of a blow, and his desire cooled at once to dismay.Mine?Christ, is that how he thought of her now? Ashis? When the bloody hell had that happened?
He’d thought her beautiful the first time he saw her—as he’d told Julian, he wasn’t blind. But he’d admired her in much the same way one might admire a lovely piece of sculpture, or a horse with a graceful gait. He’d looked forward to bedding her with the same sort of detached anticipation he felt when he bedded any desirable woman. She was to be his wife, after all, and a man bedded his wife.
For a time. Until he tired of her.
He hadn’t expected towanther. Hadn’t wanted her, either—not more than any full-blooded man would want any beautiful woman.
Not at first. But now . . .
Want her?Christ. It seemed a pale phrase to describe how he felt about her. Heburnedfor her. Her taste, her gasps, and that blush . . . he was so hard it felt as if he had a fireplace poker shoved inside his breeches.
His.He thought of her as his. He sure as hell hadn’t expected that.
“My brothers, Mr. West.” She gestured with her chin toward the other side of the room.
Cam followed her gaze. “They don’t appear concerned.”
They didn’t, much to his surprise. Her brothers weren’t what he’d expected, any more than Lady Eleanor was. He’d thought to find two proud, arrogant aristocrats looking down their noses at him from across the dinner table, but instead they were polite and amiable, and their wives no less so. So amiable he’d invited them all to Lindenhurst, for God’s sake.
Uncle Reggie was going to have an apoplexy.
“My mother, then.” Her throat worked. “For my own sake, as well, I ask you to show me the same courtesy you would show any lady in her home.”
It had cost her an effort to say it.
Now it was Cam’s turn to flush, and from something far less pleasant than desire.Jesus. He’d spoken to her as if she were a common doxy and this were a whorehouse. He ran a distracted hand through his hair and tried to pinpoint the exact moment he’d lost his mind.
He took a deep breath and gathered his wits. “Asked so prettily, I can hardly refuse, but I’ll ask for a favor in return.”
Her lips tightened. “I believe I’ll withhold my consent until I know what the favor is.”
Cam couldn’t prevent a smile at that. “Nothing so terrible. I want you to call me Camden, and permit me to use your given name, Ellie.”
Odd, how natural the name felt on his lips. He’d never called her by her first name before, but at some point he must have begun to think of her as Ellie.
Her full lips turned down at the corners. “That’s two favors, Mr. West.”
Cam stared at her mouth. Dear God, was that a pout? The fireplace poker in his breeches seemed to think so. He couldn’t resist a pout at the moment, not if he were going to act the gentleman and treat her like the lady she was. A gentleman did not suck a lady’s pouting lower lip into his mouth and tease it with his tongue.
He tore his gaze away and cleared the hoarseness from his throat. “Is that a refusal, Eleanor?”
“I doubt it would make any difference if it were, for you’ll have your way whether I agree or not.” She plucked at a fold of her gown, worrying it between her fingers. “I see what you’re doing.”
Good. At least one of them did. “Is that so?”
She kept her eyes on the crushed bit of silk. “You think to work on me by small degrees. One moment I’ve agreed to use your given name, and the next we’re joined in marriage. It won’t work, you know.”
Cam laughed. “If it were so easy, we’d be enjoying wedded bliss even now.”
“Bliss?That’s a bit much, even for you.” She glowered at the fold of silk between her fingers.
He reached across the settee and snatched the cloth away, determined to make her look at him. “Come, Eleanor. You just said it won’t work, so you’ve no reason to deny me the favor. If you do, I’ll be forced to conclude you think itwillwork, and you’re afraid of me.”
She frowned. “Afraid?What nonsense.”
Cam said nothing, but waited for her answer and tried not to notice even her frowns were seductive. More so because she seemed not to know they were, but thrust out her lower lip as if she hadn’t any idea she was slowly driving him mad.
