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A stab of pain went through her. He wasn’t in love with her, but she was agonizingly in love with him. The silence in the room was deafening. “Do you consider the question inexcusably gauche?” she asked, trying to give her voice a flippant air.

Giles cleared his throat. “Being in love is not a condition to which Englishmen are prone. I would like to marry you, Yasmin. I want you and no one else to be my countess.”

All of Hippolyte’s false promises ran through her mind. The fact that Giles readily admitted to not loving her was actually a positive. He would never lie. Perhaps he loved her and he didn’t know it. Or perhaps he would come to love her in time.

“Yes, I will marry you,” she told him, for the second time. “But not immediately.”

Joy lightened his eyes, and she was quite certain she’d done the right thing. “Excellent! I shall court you.”

“You want to court me?”

“With roses and champagne. Dancing with you twice and openly scowling at other men who touch your hand. Walking with you in the garden and kissing you within sight of chaperones. Bringing you gifts. Letting everyone in the world know that I am at your feet. I’ve had to pretend otherwise for a year, and I’ve had enough.”

Yasmin cleared her throat. “I don’t think your sister will be happy.” Giles was so certain, so passionate, that her heart was pounding in her throat. It felt like some sort of dream: this particular man saying that he wanted to marry her.

His brows drew together. “Lydia does pose a problem.”

Yasmin flattened her hand against his chest. “I don’t think you should openly court me until your sister is married. She mentioned this morning that she’d accepted a proposal of marriage from Lord Pettigrew.”

“They plan to marry at the close of the Season.”

“I don’t want to cast a shadow on her betrothal or her wedding, for that matter.”

“I might lose you.” Giles’s voice came out in a growl, a delicious, hungry growl.

“You won’t lose me!” Yasmin said, laughing again.

“Every unmarried man in London wants to marry you, Yasmin. Silvester, damn his eyes, is not a bad man, though Viscount Templeton is too old for you.”

Yasmin dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth and gave him a naughty twinkle. “I am very fond of Silvester, and the viscount is very cuddly.”

Giles looked revolted. “My sister must accept my choice for a countess,” he stated, all the arrogance of his ancestry in his voice. “My wife is not her choice.”

“But Lydia is newly betrothed. What follows an engagement is a series of parties in her honor. It’s one of the happiest times of a young lady’s life. You have to admit, Giles, that if you suddenly began wooing me, rather than acting as if you despise me, all of society will be transfixed.”

“I never despised you.” He captured her mouth again and kissed her until she was clinging to his shoulders, her heart racing.

“You did,” Yasmin managed. “You used to look across the ballroom at me with the nastiest expression, as if I were a small rodent.”

His eyes glittered. “A small, sexy rodent.” They kissed until she was more than clinging: one hand was deep in his hair, and the other stroking the broad planes of his chest.

“Worse than a rodent,” Yasmin said somewhat breathlessly. “Something beneath notice.” She returned to her earlier point. “People are already obsessed with the fact that you and I were paired for the scavenger hunt. If you begin courting me, we shall be the only subject of conversation. Your sister will be ignored, and you would be paying attention to me, rather than her.” She shook her head. “Her loving brother should usher her into society as a betrothed woman—and make certain that she does nothing rash.”

“Now that the betrothal has been—” Giles broke off, his eyes narrowed. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“No, of course not!” Yasmin protested. “What could you mean?”

He blinked. “You’re not a very good liar, are you?”

Yasmin bit her lip.

“That wasn’t your condom,” Giles stated, working it out for himself. “It was Lydia’s, wasn’t it?” His spine stiffened. “My sister was planning to sleep with Turing. Or with Pepper.” His voice was biting.

“Planning is not the same as doing,” Yasmin offered. “You won’t need to repair the family name on her account.”

“Because you saved the family name by picking up that condom,” he said. “I owe you so much.”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I couldn’t let you see it. Or Turing, for that matter.”