Page 77 of Dukes Do It Better
Malachi sighed. “Because of the title, I probably won’t see a brig for it. But my career will be stained and I’ll never hold a command again.” He leaned down and plucked one of the brass cups from the ground and dusted off the sand and dirt from the metal. These cups and the samovar were some of the few pieces he’d collected for his own use. Funny that it was his personal favorites she chose to lob at his head.
“So, no Athena,” she said.
He glanced at her. “No, my love. No Athena.”
“You keep using that word.”
Malachi quirked his lips. “What word? Love? I’m here apologizing and wearing my heart on my sleeve. Might as well tell you everything. I fell in love with you through your journal, and then gave you pieces of my heart bit by bit during our affair. But I was scared to admit it. I didn’t want to admit you meant more to me than I seemed to matter to you. Our affair was supposed to be short and sweet.”
“And if I ask you to leave right now, what would you do?”
The question stole his breath with the wicked sharp stab of an unexpected knife slipping between his ribs. “I’ll respect your wishes, but I’ll hate it. Regardless, the house is yours. It’s the least I can do.”
“If I forgive you? What happens then?” She sounded hesitant, then darted her gaze away from his, to watch a baby goat wander out of a maze of crates deeper in the cave.
“Is your goat wearing a nappy?” He waved away his own question. “Never mind. The goat can wait. If you forgive me for keeping your journal from you, then I’d hope every day you would fall in love with me too. And once you loved me, I’d ask you to marry me until you said yes.”
Her dark brown eyes appeared black in the dim light of the cave, and he wished she were close enough to touch. Despite his declaration of love, she stayed where she was, and the worry that she’d send him away grew.
“You said Phee and my brother are on their way. Why?”
“Oh yes. Sorry, I was sidetracked with the I love yous and marriage proposal.” He waited a beat, and she raised a brow.
“I didn’t hear a marriage proposal. I heard a man hiding behind hypotheticals. Now, why are my family descending en masse?”
“I’ll make a better effort at the proposal once we deal with the rest of this,” Malachi promised. “I got another message from the blackmailer. I was the third target. Ethan, your brother, and then me—the only connection we share is James Montague.”
She spent a moment in silence. “You think he’s back.”
“It’s been what, six years? Almost seven? It’s not beyond plausibility to suggest in that time he found someone to look into his case.”
“And there is no case, just transport paperwork.”
“Precisely.”
She buried her face in her hands, but he could still make out her muffled voice. “What does he want? Cal paid him. The urchin army put out the warehouse fire. Now you. What exactly are we dealing with here?”
Malachi stood and crossed to where she sat. Kneeling before her, he took her hands in his. “I won’t let you get hurt. And Calvin won’t either. You and Alton are safe.”
She looked at him. “Is that why you want to marry me? To keep me safe?”
Malachi leaned forward until his forehead rested against her shoulder. Beneath the dirt and sweat, he found a faint trace of her vanilla scent. “I wish I could say my motives are so chivalrous. Yes, I’ll keep you safe. But I want to marry you because I adore you. Because you’re smart and witty, and when I look at you, I’m turned inside out and laid bare.”
Trailing the tip of his nose along the side of her neck, he felt her quake at the gentle touch. A soft kiss behind her ear, where the vanilla was stronger, made her sigh in a way he knew signaled growing arousal. Sure, he could capture her body and catalog the responses. It wasn’t enough. “Marry me, Emma. Let me into your life, with no walls or secrets. I’ll be honest with you; you’ll be honest with me. Only say yes if you love me too. I want your body and your heart.”
Emma stilled under his mouth, and the throat beneath his lips stopped moving entirely, even to breathe.
Pulling back, he asked, “Emma?”
“Do you mean that? It’s all or nothing?”
If that was the source of her hesitation, then he might be foolish to hope. Swallowing through a suddenly tight airway, he croaked, “Yes. All or nothing.”
Emma turned her head away. “Billy don’t eat those. Come on. Let’s go back to the house.” She rose and placed a hand on Malachi’s shoulder. “I need to think on it. And you still have to explain this cave, as well as what happened to your hair. You can stay at the cottage in the guest room. Until I write you a check, the house is yours, anyway. Alton will be overjoyed to see you, I’m sure.”
It wasn’t a no. But it wasn’t a yes either. Malachi listened to the fading footsteps.
Crates surrounded him, filled with a decade of treasures and plans for his retirement. A brass cup lay on the ground by his boot next to a crowbar she must have used to pry open the boxes. Both were covered with a dusting of sand and straw. Priceless artifacts, art, and precious objects filled crates along the walls of this cave, amounting to an unimaginable stash of wealth he’d had to store here because—ironically—he hadn’t had the money for a house of his own, and he’d refused to touch his father’s properties.
