Blinking, David made an odd sound in his throat.“My brother said something about it after dinner this evening,” he murmured.His eyes suddenly widened when the delayed sense of offense settled over him.“What would be so bad about me wanting to court you?”he asked in dismay.
“You are English,” she stated, the simple words said without censure.
He blinked.“So?”
“You live in England.”Before he had a chance to respond, she added, “You’re an aristocrat.An heir to amarchesato.”
Furrowing a brow, he said, “You must know,mia donna, there are many young ladies who find that rather desirable in a man.”
“Then you should court one of them.”
David blinked again.“Well, I plan to,” he replied.
“Good,” she stated.
Although he knew he should have felt relief at how they seemed to have settled their differences, David didn’t take his leave.Instead, he regarded her with a look of hurt.“Is there some reason you don’t wish to do as yourProziaAdeline did?Become a marchioness and move to England, I mean?”he asked.“She seems to like it.”
Vittoria shook her head.“I suppose I should welcome the opportunity, but...”She once again shrugged.“Roma is my home.”
David finally nodded his understanding.“Very well.”He took a breath and let it out.“Well, I suppose that’s that,” he murmured, standing.He turned to bow, but paused when he saw her staring at him with a look of disbelief.“What is it?”
She pulled her shoulders back and bent her knees until she could wrap her arms around her shins, leaving her bare feet still on display.Shehuffed.“You certainly give up easily.”
Narrowing his eyes, David regarded her with confusion for a moment.“You...you little minx,” he whispered.
Her eyes rounded as he approached her, and she quickly unfolded her body and got to her feet as if she might attempt to escape.He stood before her, his gaze taking in her features before he used a hand to lift the braid from her shoulder.He allowed the silken mass to slide over his palm, his gaze following it until the last of the strands fell from his hand.
To her credit, she didn’t look away, nor attempt to move from where she stood.“Are you going to prove you’re a rogue now?”she asked in a breathless whisper.
Torn between taking his leave or leaving her wanting more, he reached out with his hands to pull her face towards his.His lips captured hers before she could put voice to a protest, and he reveled in the quiet whimper he heard before she finally returned the kiss.
He continued to kiss her for an entire minute, his fingers not moving beyond her jaw and neck and his body never touching hers.
If he had pulled her closer—if their bodies had collided and remained pressed against one another—he knew he wouldn’t be leaving her bedchamber that evening.He would accept her challenge, see to her ruination, and be forever known as a rogue.
They would be forced to marry one another.
She obviously didn’t want that.He wasn’t sure he did, either, so it was with a good deal of satisfaction when he was able to end the kiss, lift her hand to his lips to kiss the back of it, and then bow before taking his leave of her bedchamber without so much as a “buona notte.”
As for sleeping, it would be hours before he even tried to close his eyes.
