Page 103 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“I’ll put him to bed in a little bit,” Lia said.
“Yes,afterwe talk,” Jack said.
Blast.
There was clearly no escaping the dratted man. Lia didn’t know how much longer she could keep resisting him, especially when he looked so handsome in the severe but beautifully tailored coat that set off his broad shoulders to such wonderful effect. No one looked more attractive in evening wear than Jack.
Chloe gave Lia a quick kiss on the cheek. “Enjoy your chat with Lord Lendale, my dear.”
“Yes, I’m quite looking forward to it,” she replied in a dry tone.
Her aunt nodded to Jack and glided to the door, pausing to give Lia a roguish wink before exiting.
It seemed Lia’s entire family conspired against her. If they had their way, she’d be married to Jack before the week was out.
Of course, if they knew what Lady Anne had revealed, they might change their minds. Lia had been too disturbed—and mortified—to tell even Chloe or Gillian.
But she’d have to tell Jack. Nothing she’d tried so far had knocked him off course, including her ridiculous requests for his assistance in finding her a protector. No matter what she threw at him, he feinted. That left one weapon in her arsenal, but she loathed the idea because it would wound him as much as it would her.
Thunderstorms still lingered in his gaze, but above the black clouds lurked sunlight and warmth and so much concern. Lia had to resist the impulse to fling herself into his arms and burst into tears. She was so tired of batting aside one problem only for another to take its place. In the past, Jack had always been there for her, smoothing out the disturbances that had troubled her life. The temptation to let him do so again was so strong it frightened her.
She had to remind herself thathewas now the cause of many of her troubles. If Jack would simply get out of her way, she could put into action the plans to support herself and Granny. And then he could get on with his own life, finding a suitable bride and caring for his estate.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently.
It took a second before she could answer. “Nothing. I’m just a little weary.”
“Then come sit and let me take care of you.” His seductive smile pulled her inexorably toward him. “I’ll massage your feet, if you like. I know how much you enjoy that.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said, trying to sound scandalized. He’d done that more than once when they were children, after they’d tramped through the snow or gone for rides in damp weather. Her feet had always gotten cold because her boots were invariably worn thin and were often downright leaky. And Jack had invariably worried that she would catch a chill.
“Then just come sit and talk to me.” He took her hand and coaxed her down to the settee with him.
“There, now, isn’t that better?” he murmured as he draped a casual arm over her shoulder. His fingers teased the little puff at the top of her sleeve.
“Not really. In fact, you’re behaving very improperly.”
“You and Sinclair were also behaving quite improperly, from what I could see. And it’s time you answered my question. Why were you alone with that bounder anyway?”
She twisted out of his loose hold. “Sinclair is not a bounder and it’s none of your—”
He gently grasped her chin, silencing her. “Yes, sweetheart, it is.”
She glared at him, but he was entirely unmoved. “You’re so annoying,” she said.
“I know, but you love me anyway.”
Because she couldn’t dispute that, she stuck her tongue out at him instead.
“Do that again and I’ll have to kiss you,” he said, the seductive gleam back in his eyes.
“If you must know, Sinclair proposed marriage,” she said, knowing it would irritate him.
Well, it was rather more than irritation, given the flare of anger in his gaze. His features turned hard as marble. “Bloody hell,” he growled. “That bas—”
She slapped a hand on his chest. “I refused him, so don’t start blustering.”
“I should damn well hope you refused him; you’re going to marry me.”
