Page 55 of The Pleasures of Passion
She gazed at him, her face softening. “Itwasmagical, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was.” He smiled at her. “We should do it again.”
Now looking distinctly wary, she drew away from him once more. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t be your mistress, Niall.”
“I’m not asking you to be my mistress.” He stared at her. “We could marry. Turn this into a real betrothal. I need a wife, and you—”
“I don’twantto marry you!” she cried.
The words cut through him like a knife of ice. “Ah,” he managed to eke out.
“Don’t you see? I can’t do it again. You broke my heart the first time. You can’t just . . . come back after seven years and take up where we left off, as if nothing ever happened.”
He fought the urge to pull her back into his arms and kiss her senseless again. “Is there someone else?”
“Of course not.”
“Then it’s only your fear talking. And I see no reason either of us should give in to it.”
“It’s not fear; it’s caution. I have good reason to be cautious. We’re different people now, you know. I’ve already been married to one man who treated me like his Botticelli, and I don’t want another. Besides, my son is his heir, and I can’t take up with anyone without considering how it would affect him. Especially a man who still keeps secrets, who still won’t—”
“Listen,” he broke in, “I’m only asking you to give me a chance. You’re right. Wearedifferent people now. But not so different that we don’t still havethisbetween us. So why not take it slowly? Continue with our pretend engagement, but actually treat it as a courtship. Get to know each other as we are now.”
She eyed him warily. “Is this your roundabout way of getting me to comply with Lord Fulkham’s scheme again?”
“Damnation, it has naught to do with—” He choked down a string of angry words. She was intentionally provoking him. Because she didn’t yet trust him not to break her heart again. And truth be told, he wasn’t entirely easy with her yet, either.
All the more reason they should take some time to be together. So he forced himself to be calm and not rise to her barbs. “I don’t give a damn about Fulkham’s scheme. If you don’t care if your father hangs, then I bloody well don’t, especially after what he did to you.”
Catching her hand, he lifted it to his lips for a kiss. “But even if you refuse to help Fulkham, Iwillcourt you. I’m not giving up on us this time, Bree.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “Unless that’s what you really want, and then I’ll honor your wishes. But I don’t think it is.”
The fact that she didn’t instantly refuse emboldened him. “Look at it this way. We have a unique opportunity. We’re already considered betrothed by the world. So we can court without anyone thinking twice about it. If it doesn’t succeed, then you can do as you initially planned and jilt me. Go back to your estate and closet yourself away from me and the world.”
He pulled her closer. “But if we can find what we once had, wouldn’t that be worth it? If you can come to trust me . . .”
“So I can have my heart broken again the next time you decide to . . . to fight a duel and flee the country?”
That made him laugh, in spite of everything. “I’m not fighting any more duels, sweeting.” He grinned. “Unless they’re fought over you, and then you can come with me.”
She eyed him askance. “And take my son, too? And have him leave his inheritance behind? And his family?”
Bloody hell. “All right, bad joke,” he said sourly. “The point is—”
“The point is that you haven’t consideredmylife,mysituation. You want to start again as if nothing happened. Yet so much has happened tome.It has changed me. I don’t think you realize how.”
“Then let me find that out. What’s the harm in it? That we might fall in love again? That doesn’t sound awful to me.”
“Of course it doesn’t. Love isn’t the same for a man.” She made a vague gesture in the direction of his trousers. “For men, it’s just aboutthat. For women—”
“I don’t think women are as different from men as you suggest,” he said softly. “I never forgot you, Bree, and that was without ever having you in my bed. I never stopped missing you. And I daresay you were the same. You never learned to love Trevor, after all.”
“No, but I tried. Hard.” She drew her hand from his, and wandered over to the plane tree. “Has it occurred to you that perhaps my heart is . . . permanently broken, which is why I could never love my husband? That after fighting so hard to cut you out of it, I can never let you—or anyone else—back in?”
He refused to let her see how her words tore at him. “No, that has not occurred to me, because it’s absurd.”
