Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(67)

Justine didn’t know what to make of that—except that some mental part of her exhaled a great sigh of relief—so she kept silent.

Griffin’s mouth took on a bitter twist. “I’m not a whoremaster, Justine, no matter what you might think.”

“Yes, I see that now,” she said quietly. “Thank you for explaining it to me.”

His head went back a bit, as if she’d surprised him.

“What did you intend to happen after you sell everything off?” she asked.

He grimaced, reaching around to rub the base of his neck. She’d noticed that he had a habit of doing that when he was frustrated about something. It usually meant he pulled some of his long hair from the confines of its leather band. Rather to her horror, Justine couldn’t help wishing she could touch the dark locks. She suspected they’d be as soft as silk between her fingers.

“I was going to leave England,” he said. “Spend a few years traveling in Europe and the Near East, perhaps Egypt, as well.” He hesitated for only a few seconds before unleashing a charming, crooked smile. “You’d be welcome to travel with me. As husband and wife, it would be entirely proper.”

He leaned toward her again, seeming almost eager. Even with the small table between their chairs separating them, Justine felt the force of his presence like a hand pressing on her chest. She had to struggle to pull in her next breath.

“It would be an adventure, don’t you think?” he said in a darkly coaxing voice. “Just think of all the fun we could have, roaming the world like two free spirits with no one to answer to but each other.”


“I . . . I don’t even know what to say to such an idea,” she stammered.

And she didn’t. Something deep inside her leapt at the idea of exploring exotic lands with Griffin at her side, just the two of them doing whatever they wished. It sounded exciting and risky and even rather dangerous.

And the most dangerous thing of all, she suspected, would be Griffin.

No.

She’d spent her entire adult life trying to escape chaos and drama, and she had no intention of walking right back into it.

He obviously read the answer on her face because he sat back and gave a careless shrug. She couldn’t help thinking he’d found her answer disappointing, and that made her feel she’d somehow failed him.

“Or not,” he said drily. “Rest assured I will not force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But I warn you that I will be leaving England at some point in the next few months.”

“I understand,” she said, surprised at how strangely bleak the notion of his departure made her feel. “In that case, the best thing I can do is return to Lady Belgrave’s house.”

“You will do nothing of the sort,” he said, abruptly coming to his feet. He loomed over her with a glower on his handsome face. “As my wife, I will make a proper settlement on you and provide you with a town house in London or a villa in the country, whichever you prefer. I will not let it be said that I do not take care of my wife or provide for her needs. Do you understand me, Justine?”

She gaped up at him, surprised at the blaze of anger in his eyes. She wanted to argue the point—after all, he didn’t owe her anything—but some instinct warned that she’d pushed him far enough tonight. Better to discuss the situation with Dominic, and make the appropriate plans at another time.

“Yes, I understand,” she said. “I had no intention of offending you, or suggesting that you didn’t have an appropriate sense of duty.”