Physical desire faded. Marrying for lust wasn't enough. Oh, but for a moment she wished it were. Her body craved his. She wanted his lips on hers again. She wanted the feel of his body against her, but it wasn't enough. It could never be. As he'd said, lust fades.
"Yes, I've wanted other women. Before." He placed a finger over her lips when she started talking. "But never like this. Never with a burning hunger I thought would consume me. I want you the second I wake up until the moment I fall asleep, and even then my dreams are haunted by you. I want you in my bed."
She closed her eyes at the visceral sensations his words caused, relishing each and every jolt for as long as she could. "It isn't enough. That doesn't last."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll tire of me. You'll want others once the novelty fades."
"Would you, Charlotte? Would you move onto another?"
She gasped. "No. I'd never do that."
"And neither would I. Charlotte, I care about you. I admire you. You're strong, brave. Your mind is a sponge, greedy for any and all information. You're determined. I've never respected another as I do you. I don't know what our future holds, but we will be starting off with a lot more than others have."
His words affected her more than she'd like, weakening her resolve. He didn't speak of love, but what he had said was more than she'd ever had with a man. "I feel the same about you," she finally whispered.
He took her hand, bringing her fingers slowly to his lips. "Then say yes. Say you'll marry me. We'll get through this and build a good life together."
His eyes pleaded with hers, and she ached. She wanted him so much. Maybe it was enough. Maybe his affection for her, while not yet love, could turn into more. Besides, what other option did she have? If she didn't marry him, she was ruined. She'd never get another chance at love, at a family.
Was it enough that she loved him?
Derek was offering her more than she'd ever had, but would it be enough?
Trying to read his eyes, she decided it had to be enough. She had to jump with faith, and hope she found what she needed in the end. Because she couldn't let him go.
She wanted him too much.
Heaven help her, for she already loved him with a desperation, a depth he may never feel for her.
Rising to her toes, she brushed her lips across his. "I will marry you."
"Yes!" He swept her into his arms and kissed her, sealing their promise.
He didn't let her change her mind. Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her with all the passion she'd glimpsed in his eyes, and she fully surrendered to the feeling. Hoping, praying it would be enough.
* * *
Derek relished his good fortune when his eyes lit on Charlotte's glittering form. The gypsy entertainers who had amused his guests so many times in the past had settled back on his land for a brief time, giving him the perfect opportunity.
His domino mask in place, he joined the crowd gathered in the gardens. The party to celebrate their engagement had been thrown together quickly, but no expense had been spared. Not only had extra guests come in from London, but several local families had been invited as well. Situating the party on the terrace had been a stroke of genius by Lady Langston. They would have been forced outside by the heat of too many bodies, regardless.
As their last night in the country, Derek had every intention of taking this moment to win over Charlotte. He could not allow her to retain her false conclusion that she'd been forced upon him.
That couldn't be further from the truth. He wanted her. Desperately. The fact that she'd been compromised had only enlightened him sooner about how much he needed her in his life.
With their masks in place and the level of anonymity that came with them, he intended to show her how pleased he was with their circumstances.
"May I have this dance?" he asked from behind her.
She twirled toward him with a surprised laugh. "I would have never guessed that was you."
"I've learned to blend in."
Her arched brow was barely visible above her teal mask. "What an understatement," she whispered.
"Come." He grinned, offering his hand.
The gypsies played a lively tune, and while not everyone danced, there were enough doing so that it wouldn't draw too much attention to them, which agreed with him very much.
He twirled her into his arms, much too close, but no one seemed to mind.
"Derek!"
"Yes?"
"You'll cause a scandal."
"More than we've already done?" His mind filled with the delicious memory of Charlotte beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist.
A giggle escaped as she looked around. No one glanced their way. "I guess it'd be hard to top that."
"Quite so." He twirled them again, relishing every brush of her seafoam skirt against his body. Ten minutes. That was all he knew he'd last before whisking her away to a darkened corner.
She sighed, tilting her head up toward the torchlit sky. "This is beautiful."
"Yes," he said as he watched her eyes close in delight. She was so beautiful it hurt.
"My mother was skeptical about the gypsies, but they're perfect. Outside, the lighting, the buffet, music, all of it. It's perfect." Her sparkling eyes met his. "Thank you. I'm very lucky to have you."
At her words, he knew he'd been optimistic about the ten minutes part. As everyone basked in the mystical ambiance the night created, he maneuvered away from the crowd, pushing them deeper into the garden.
"Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly.
"To be alone."
She didn't ask again, only quickened her footsteps.
The minute he had her behind a tree, its trunk hidden by towering shrubs, he jerked her against him. Adrenaline shot through his veins as he relished the feel of her. He choked back a moan.
No one had ever made him feel this way. As if he'd catch fire just being close to her, by touching her. He needed, craved.
But before he could capture her lips, she was on her toes, devouring his.
He deepened the kiss, groaning when her tongue met his.
He fisted her skirt, pulling her close, wanting to be ever closer. Sensations fought through him, ripping at his control. His hands dove in her hair, and the pins holding her curls in place scattered. Golden tendrils cascaded to her waist, and he groaned in pleasure as silky tresses caressed his fingers.
This was too much. Too much sensation, too much want.
Too much love.
He broke the kiss in surprise, his wide eyes locking with hers. Is that what this was? Love?
His heart thumped strong in his chest as assurance filled him. He loved her. With his whole heart. He'd cared about her from the start, had certainly wanted her, but he'd never guessed his feelings had progressed that far.
But why not? Hadn't he always planned to love the lady he'd one day take to wife?
Joy filled him as he pulled her to him slowly now, his eyes still holding hers. His lips hovered above hers for a moment, torturing them both, letting sensation build.
When his lips brushed against hers, desire flared, fueled by something richer, deeper. It overwhelmed him.
"Charlotte..."
She jerked still as if she knew what his heart wanted to say.
"Charlotte, I-"
"Wait." Her shoulders bunched with tension, and he realized she wasn't listening to him, but to footsteps on the path.
Derek wanted to kill whoever was out there. He wasn't proud of that fact. He'd always been able to temper his anger, but he didn't want anyone intruding on this moment. But short of walking out from the bushes and exposing them, there wasn't anything he could do but wait until they left.
A woman giggled as a man whispered something to her.
Derek rolled his eyes. Thwarted by another couple's rendezvous.
"Possibly," the woman agreed coyly. "We'll have to see."
The man laughed. "You wouldn't make me wait, would you, love?"
"Only all night," she teased. "How long would you wait for me?"
"As long as it took," the man growled, but Derek heard the edge in it and latched onto the voice. The man was truly annoyed.
The woman gasped as the man continued, "But I wouldn't enjoy it any more than walking into the Thames with stones sewn into my clothes."
Charlotte gasped, all blood draining from her face.
Derek gripped her arms, worried she'd faint. "What's wrong?" he whispered.
"It's-it's him."
"Him?"
She nodded, her eyes round. "It's the man. From the Leatherbys' sitting room. It's him. It's-" Her words choked off.
Cold rage flowed through him. He didn't try to fight it, but allowed it to coat his resolve. This was the villain he'd searched for. The man who'd hunted Charlotte. Who'd terrorized her for weeks. "Will you be all right?" he asked, needing her to be. If the man left before he was able to intercept him, he'd be lost again.