Page 85 of Fortune Favors the Viscount
“Actually,” he said slowly, “it’s more of a proposition.”
Emilia didn’t move.
“That’s what you said to me,” he went on. “You barged into my office and told me you’d come with a proposition that only an idiot would refuse.”
She made a smothered sound and tried to pull free. Nick clasped her hand.
“I can’t say the same for this proposition. You might be an idiot to accept it. The proposition is...” He took another breath to keep from blurting it out in one unintelligible rush. No time for going down on one knee, and every line of poetry had vanished from his brain. Christ, he didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous in his life. “That you marry me.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Emilia twitched, then tensed anxiously, certain she’d misheard.
Nick kept his gaze on the sky. “Not because it would put you out of Fitchley’s reach. Not because it might strengthen my case for getting charge of Lucy, and not because you would finally get your own money, which you should have had all along.” He wrapped both his hands around hers. “Marry me because we think alike. We make each other laugh. We suit each other perfectly in bed. You quit your post to seduce me, which is the most impractical thing I’ve ever seen you do,” he added wryly. “I’m still prostrate with shock about that, even though I’m also wildly elated that you did.”
She gave a shocked little laugh, then stopped.
He took a long, slow breath. “I know it’s asking a great—”
“What else?” she blurted.
Nick went still. “What else?”
It felt like her stays had been winched tighter. The temperature seemed to have risen, and then plummeted, in the space of a few minutes. She was shaky, her skin damp with perspiration that now felt cold. Finally she knew what he meant about every decision being a gamble. Surely it would be easier to risk a fortune than to ask this question, which could break her heart. Not daring to move, she asked, quietly and evenly so her throat didn’t close up, “Is there any other reason you want to marry me?”
Slowly he turned to look at her, even though it was so dark she could barely make out his face. “Yes,” he said, quietly and precisely. “I’ve fallen in love with you and want you to stay with me for the rest of my life.”
And that was how it felt to win the pot. Unable to speak, she went up on her toes and kissed him.
His arm around her flexed. “Is that yes?”
“Yes.” She was still smiling in disbelief when his arms tightened around her as he lifted her off her feet. Emilia wound her arms around his neck and kissed him again, hardly believing this was happening to her.
When the kiss finally ended, she had to lean against him. “I’ve been in love with you since you told me to play my shot again at billiards.”
His mouth was on her neck, but she felt him smile. “Do you know how tempting you looked, bent over my billiard table?”
She tried to choke back a shocked laugh. “No!”
“I imagined putting you on that table and having my wicked way with you—”
“Nick,” she gasped.
“But I didn’t, because it would have been my choice and not yours.” He paused. “It must always be your desire, Emilia. I’m not above coaxing and begging, but I will only take what you want to give me.”
“I know.” She tugged at his neckcloth. “You’re the most honorable man I know.”
He scoffed. “That’s only because you’ve had the misfortune to know men like Fitchley and Parker-Lloyd. Their lot would make anyone look good.”
She smiled but didn’t argue, and wet her lips. “How?”
“How what?”
“How would you make love to me on a billiard table?” she whispered.
Nick stared at her for a long moment, then took her hand and pulled her toward the inn. “Like this.”
She almost had to run to keep up with him as he strode back inside. The innkeeper met them just inside the door. “Ah, Mr. Dashwood, I’ve left the wine in the parlor, as you asked—”
