Page 71 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

“I will provide for you and for Nicholas. Your household will be secure. Your son will remain by your side. No school, no guardian, no grasping uncle will take him without coming through me first.”

“What do you require from this bargain?”

His heavy jaw shifted. “It is not a bargain.”

“It sounds like one.”

“It is a proposal.”

“A proposal usually contains some mention of affection, Your Grace.”

His eyes darkened instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifting, thick with a sudden, suffocating heat. Penelope immediately wished she had not said it. Then wished he would answer. Then wished she could look away from the raw hunger in his face.

Malcolm reached out and took her gloved hand. Slowly. Carefully.

She let him.

His large thumb rested against her knuckles, warm even through the layers of fabric. “You want affection spoken plainly?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Her mouth went completely dry. “I want truth.”

His gaze dropped to their joined hands. “I want you and Nicholas safe.” His fingers tightened slightly around hers. “And I want to be the one who keeps you safe.”

Her eyes burned fiercely.

“And… I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice dropping into a rough, intimate whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “I want it so damn badly it feels like a physical ache. I want to consume your thoughts until you cannot remember a single thing you are supposed to be worrying about. I want you entirely present in my arms, Penelope, blind to everything but the weight of my hands on you and the pleasure I am going to give you. But I will not do it while you are still looking over your shoulder. When I kiss you, I want you to be wholly mine. Without worries. Without inhibitions.”

Penelope stopped breathing entirely, her chest locked.

Malcolm released her hand at once, stepping back just a fraction, though his intense gaze never let her go. “I am at your mercy, Penelope. I will touch you only when you tell me you cannot bear another second without it.”

She drew in a long, cleansing breath.

She thought of Nicholas. His small, warm hand in hers. His bright, gap-toothed grin when Hector barreled toward him in the grass. His stubborn little chin when he spoke of hunting and manly pursuits.

Charles would send him away to be broken. Charles would hurt her sweet boy just to punish her.

Malcolm would stand in front of the entire world and dare them to try.

She straightened her spine, lifting her chin.

“Yes,” she said.

Malcolm went completely still.

“Yes,” she repeated, her voice ringing clear. “I will marry you.”

He did not smile. He only closed his eyes once, deeply. When he opened them, the dangerous tension in his face had finally settled into something resolute.

“Thank you.”

“That is a very strange thing to say to a woman accepting your hand.”

“It is all I can say without alarming you further.”

“You have already done plenty of that.”

“So I have.”