Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(66)

He might as well have dipped her in a cauldron of boiling water. “Sir, that sort of comment is entirely unnecessary.”

“Perhaps, but I’d still like an answer,” he said, not backing down.

She fumed for several seconds, glaring at him. Really, he was beyond outrageous.

“Very well,” she finally said. “I would like the option to seek an annulment at some point. We can only do that if we do not engage in conjugal relations.”

He stared at her with patent disbelief. “Let me try to understand. You have agreed to marry me to salvage your reputation, but you wish to remain a virgin in order to, at some point in the future, apply for an annulment. After, presumably, the scandal has faded.”

“That is correct.” Her jaw felt so tight she could probably crack walnuts with it.

He shook his head with exasperation and, perhaps, some sympathy. “My dear girl, it will never work.”

“But why not?” she asked, trying not to bristle.

“Because no one will believe you.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Why not?” she asked again, realizing she was beginning to sound like a parrot.

“You know me a little by now, do you not? And you certainly know of my reputation.”

She nodded.

“And with that knowledge, do you think anyone would believe that I didn’t take you into my bed, no matter how skittish and proper you might choose to be?”

She thought her eyes must have crossed for a moment, because he suddenly looked rather blurry around the edges.

“But it would be the truth,” she said. “And if you made the same claim . . .” She stumbled to a halt when he grimly shook his head.

“No one would believe it,” he replied in such a blighting tone that any answer she had dried up on her tongue. “Justine, although there has been some exaggeration regarding my amorous activities, my reputation is, for the most part, well deserved. For your sake, I regret that. But that does not change the situation, which is that you will be wedded to me on the morrow and will likely be wedded to me for many years to come.”

She stared at him, feeling like a bird trapped in a hunter’s snare. Her heart beat fast and light, as if the trapped bird resided within her rib cage.

“But surely you cannot wish that?” she blurted out.

Griffin’s casual shrug did nothing to dispel the intensity that shimmered in the air around him. When he tipped his head to the side to inspect her more closely, the reflected glow of the flames in the grate highlighted the thin, white scar cutting down the side of his face. “I’m reconciled to it.”

She gave her head a shake to dispel the air of unreality that threatened to overcome her. Perhaps she was going about this all wrong. Instead of trying to force him to agree to her needs and expectations, she should be asking him what he expected from a marriage of convenience, no matter how long or short-lived.

“If I may ask, how do you envision our future together?” She gave what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Now, that is an interesting question,” he mused. “The truth is, until this mess with the baby cropped up, I was in the process of selling off the last of my holdings.”

That gave her a jolt. “You mean your bawdy houses and your gaming clubs?”

“I’ve already sold the clubs, and I’m in the process of turning The Golden Tie over to Madeline and some of the girls who work there. And for your information,” he said, with that haughty note creeping back into his voice, “I have only ever owned one brothel—the one attached to the club that once operated out of this house. When I bought the club it was necessary that I buy the brothel, too. It was that or see it hived off to someone who had little concern for the well-being of those who worked there.”