What a Reckless Rogue Needs (The Sinful Scoundrels, #2)(47)

He put his hands on his hips. “How did something so simple become so complicated?”

“If it were easy, all marriages would be made up of hearts and flowers every day,” she said.

“I really hope you don’t expect flowers daily.”

She laughed. “No, but you might find yourself rewarded for a posy now and then.”

He clutched his chest. “My kingdom for a flower.”

“Do not be ridiculous.”

“There you go again.” He paused and said, “Why am I standing across the room when there is a beautiful woman waiting for me on the sofa?”

When he sat next to her, he took her hand. “Do you find the idea of marriage to me abhorrent?”

“Not on principle.” She was terrified of making another mistake. Part of her wanted to believe that underneath his rakehell exterior lay a man of honor. From all she’d heard, he’d earned his notorious reputation. She wanted to believe that he would give up his raking and settle down. What she needed was a surety and knew it was impossible. “It occurs to me that while we have known one another all our lives, we don’t really know each other,” she said.


“I believe that is probably common,” he said. “Especially with arranged marriages.”

“When you first brought up the subject of marriage, I felt obliged to say yes immediately. I know my parents would be grateful and relieved. Penny would most likely be able to have her come-out, and I could attend. She wants me to be there with all of her heart, and I yearn to watch my little sister dance at a ball for the first time. It is true the starchiest ladies of the ton will never forget. I do not care a snap for them, but I am concerned about the consequences for you.”

“You need not worry about me.”

“Gentlemen gossip,” she said.

He shrugged. “You are trying to make a point, are you not?”

“If others know a man has been cuckolded, is he the object of derision?”

“Yes, if it’s blatant. What does that have to do with us?”

“It is quite possible that others will speak disdainfully of your marriage to me.”

“If any man dared, I’d slap a glove in his face,” he gritted out.

“How many times will you have to defend me?” she said.

“Are you trying to persuade me not to marry you? It seems you are looking for reasons to discourage me. Believe me, no man will ever question your honor or mine if he expects to live.”

“Colin, I worry because I have a notorious reputation. Others will gossip about me.”

“They would never dare insult my wife,” he said vehemently.

“Not in your presence,” she said.

“Damn it, Angeline. You are pushing me away.”

She didn’t want to say it, but she knew it was necessary. “Colin, men said things to me when I was in Paris. Awful things. I am not exaggerating about my reputation. If we do not discuss it now, it may come between us.” She feared it would anyway.

“No man will come between us unless he has a death wish. Now, will you allow me to make a proper proposal of marriage to you?”

Panic set in and her lungs constricted. She’d made a bad decision once before. “There is no rush. We have three weeks remaining until the house party ends. I think we should use that time to learn more about each other. Meanwhile, we can contact the architect I mentioned to you earlier. I’m sure he would make the journey in a prompt manner.” It was so much easier to focus on practical matters.

“There is a problem,” he said. “I can’t very well hire a man and keep the engagement a secret. My father would question why I was spending money but making no effort whatsoever to hunt for a wife.”

She sighed. “I so had my heart set on it.”

“I’d rather hoped it would be me that made your heart thump, but perhaps I’d better use the three weeks to woo you.” He set his arm around her shoulders.

She inhaled his scent and everything inside of her wanted to be closer to him, but she wasn’t ready to go farther. “Did I give you leave to be familiar?”

“Not in so many words, but your dreamy sighs as you looked upon my fair countenance encouraged me.”

She laughed. “You are being ridiculous again.”

“I’m only trying to be romantic, but it seems my almost-fiancée is not.”

She wondered if his witty remarks hid his own misgivings about the marriage. When she turned to him, he cupped her cheek. “So soft.”

He had the sort of face that made women stop and stare. His chiseled square jaw, cleft chin, and straight nose were both beautiful and masculine at the same time. There was perfect symmetry to his face, but it was his eyes that drew her.

He angled his head and kissed her so gently, she sighed afterward. Whatever fears she might have had seemed to float away.

Then he kissed her again, and this time, he kissed her like a starved man. He licked her lips and when she opened for him, he slid his tongue inside and pulled her closer. She was powerless to deny him; no, she didn’t want to deny him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and wanted to be closer to him. The scent of him wrapped around her, a seductive potion that made her forget all of her misgivings.

His breathing was harsh and labored as he nuzzled her neck. When he cupped her breast, she drew in a ragged breath at the pleasurable sensations. Her nipples ached as he palmed her through the thin muslin of her bodice.