Page 34 of Desert Island Duke

“Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want the woman I plan to marry dissatisfied with my performance.”

Caro stilled, gazing up at him in shock. “Wait. Marry? What?”

Max smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek and stared deep into her eyes. “I’d like to marry you, Caroline Montgomery. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Her heart began to pound. “You don’t mean that. You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t even know who you are. I mean—”

“You don’t want to marry a stable hand?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that . . . you don’t have to marry me just because we’ve—you know—”

She waved her hand vaguely between them, horribly aware that she was babbling.

Oh, this was both the best and worst day of her life. She’d never imagined she’d receive a proposal of marriage from Max, and while there was nothing she wanted more than to be his wife, how could she say yes, when he had no idea who he was?

To accept would be to entrap him in the worst possible way. As a gentleman, he’d be too honorable to withdraw his offer, once he learned he was a duke. He’d regret it, and come to resent her in the process.

“Cavorted?” he supplied. “Made love?”

“Because I’m ruined,” she managed. “There’s no need. Honestly. I don’t care what the gossips will say back in London. Please don’t feel like you have to offer just to save my reputation.”

Max’s laugh cut off her protests. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled back, shaking his head.

“Oh, Caro. That’s not why I want you to marry me. I love you. I want you beside me. Forever.”

“You’re not a groom,” she blurted out desperately. “I lied. You’re not penniless either. Your uncle left you an enormous house and a huge pile of money and you’re—”

“The Duke of Hayworth?” He grinned down at her, his blue eyes twinkling with devilry.

Caro was certain her heart actually stopped.

“You remember?” she croaked.

“Never forgot.”

She scowled up at him in dawning horror, then whacked him on the chest with her balled fist. “You know you’re a duke?”

“Of course.”

“How long have you known?”

He laughed, the beast.

“Since about five minutes after I opened my eyes on the beach that first day.”

“Ohhh, you monster—”

“A groomsman?!” he chided. “Really? Was that the best you could do? Why not make me a chimney sweep or a tinker? Or one of those mudlarks, who wade about on the side of the Thames at low tide picking up rubbish?”

“I think I might stab you, after all,” she growled.

He caught her wrists and restrained her with the lightest of holds.

“I love you,” he repeated softly. “Of all the people in the world I could have wished to be shipwrecked with, I’d always and forever choose you.”

Caro could barely think. Happiness was constricting her chest, but she was afraid to believe that this was real, and not a cruel dream.

“But I love you,” she said, almost accusingly. “I think I always have.”

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