The Duke I'm Going to Marry(71)

He was down-on-his-knees-begging desperate, but it wouldn’t do to let her know how thoroughly she affected him. “It has crossed my mind a time or two.”

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Good. I thought so, but I wasn’t quite sure. You’ve been a gentleman with me all along. I’m glad the notion crossed your mind. More than once or twice, I hope.”

“Quite a bit more.” He removed his shirt and spread it out on one of the small tables in the room, the one closest to the hearth. If they were to talk and exchange sexual favors—did she understand what she was suggesting?—he may as well be comfortable. As she’d said, he’d catch a chill if he remained in his wet clothes. Lord, he was feverish already.

He took a moment to tug off his boots, but kept his trousers on. Perhaps he’d allow her to unbutton them. She might enjoy it. He certainly would.

She let out a little eep when he turned to face her. She was still standing, gripping the back of her chair for support. “Ian, you’re supposed to cover yourself with the blanket.”

“No.” He wasn’t about to wrap that itchy thing about his bare shoulders when she’d already seen him naked in her bed, and now they were once again up to their eyeballs in trouble. Even if nothing else happened tonight, they’d already given Lady Withnall enough material to fill her scandal sheets for years.

“No?” Dillie let out a soft laugh. “Not even to spare my delicate sensibilities? Although I haven’t been very delicate, have I? Asking you to latch the door. Asking you to remove your wet clothes. Demanding that you allow me into your heart.” She paused and swallowed hard. “Ian, I want to know you better. I want you to know me. I suspect you already do. I’m not very complicated. But you are. Do you think you can ever let me into your heart?”

He’d been alone for so long, his defenses were too deeply embedded. “I don’t know, Dillie. I realize it isn’t the answer you hoped for, but it’s the best I can give you right now.”

He expected her to end the game. Instead, she cast him the gentlest smile. A log splintered and crackled on the cozy fire. Then silence. The noise of the raging storm seemed to disappear into the background. The shutters no longer rattled, and all that could be heard was the low howl of the wind outside and the muffled pick-pock, pick-pock of the icy rain that struck the shutters’ thick slats.

So quiet he could hear himself breathe.

A bottle of whiskey and serviceable glass had been set out on the small table beside the window for him, and it hadn’t been removed when he’d given the chamber to Dillie. The whiskey glowed, a dark, rich amber against the glow of firelight that filled the room. He dared not take a drink. He was already too besotted for his own good.

“Honesty is good, Ian. I’ll be honest with you, too.” She glanced at the canopied bed, its blue velvet curtains drawn back with matching velvet ties. “I want to be in that big, comfortable bed. I want you in that bed with me and doing all sorts of delightfully wicked things to me.” She held up a hand, as though to stop him from carrying out her wishes. “But you’ll have to work hard to earn your way into that bed.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Dillie—”

“We’re not getting out of this scrape, are we? You and me. Alone at the inn. Alone in this room.”

He agreed. “We’re done for.”

Her smile slipped a little. “The choice should be an easy one for me. Do I marry a handsome, wealthy duke, or do I remain a ruined spinster for the rest of my days?”

He put his hands on each side of her waist and gently drew her close. “It is easy. Marry me.”

“I want to, truly I do. But I don’t know anything about you or the secrets you keep locked away. I don’t know if you’ll break my heart. I think you will, because you can have any woman you want, and I don’t see you reforming your rakehell ways after we’re married. I’m not good at sharing. I never was, Lily can attest to that.” She cast him a wan smile. “Knowing that you’re satisfying your... base, manly urges on other women while I sleep alone in my elegant apartments in Belgrave Square isn’t for me. I suppose I could discreetly take on a lover as other duchesses do.” Her eyes began to water. “But I couldn’t ever do such a thing.”

Hence her proposed game. Ian groaned inwardly, not only understanding her concerns, but wishing he could put her mind at rest. She needed to be happy in her marriage, just as her parents were. Just as her sisters were. She needed to know that he wasn’t a bastard who would destroy her life as he’d destroyed the life of his brother. She wanted it all. Love. Commitment. Happiness. Forever.