The Royal Conquest(54)
Payton swallowed, her heart jerking as he started to shrug from his jacket. Good Heavens. “Mikhail, I—”
“Answer me,” his voice lashed at her.
Emotions clogged her throat. “I wanted you…and I wanted to marry you.” She pushed the painful admission past her throat.
“I am the same man, Payton.”
How could he believe so? The man standing before her now, although he was dressed casually, had power rolling off him. Penetrating, cool blue eyes stared at her. The change should have been subtle, but the imperious bearing screamed. All the hopes and dreams she had harbored about them in the dark corners of her heart had been smashed into thousands of pieces.
“Maybe,” she whispered. “But I have no doubt you would eventually be dissatisfied with your choice.”
“An impossibility that is so ludicrous it does not bear discussion. I could never be unhappy with you; you are genuine, a breath of fresh air I want to inhale and keep trapped in my lungs. People always behave differently when they know who I am. All they can see is the title and the wealth. Not me, Payton. They never see me. You did.”
What about my touch, Mikhail? You said you did not hate my touch, but I still cannot hold you.
He reached for her, and she jerked away. “Your sentiments only drive home your ridiculous reason for deceiving me.”
“I…” He thrust his fingers through his hair, and a look of frustration crossed his face. “Do you love me?”
Yes. “What does that matter?”
“I esteem you more than any woman I have ever known.”
Not love. Would it have mattered if he spoke of tender feelings? Payton glared at him, unable to credit what she was hearing. “You have insulted me in the worst possible manner, and yet you stand here telling me I should believe that you esteem me?”
His mouth flattened with impatience. “How have I insulted you?”
Temper lit in her veins. “You have touched me, kissed me—” Her voice broke, and she took seconds to rein in her emotions. “You did not trust me with your identity, because you believed me to be the kind of woman to be incapable of holding affection only for you, because you are a prince and a duke. You believed this from our very first meeting. I could understand hiding your titles that first day in the cottage, but you made no effort to confide in me in the days after we met. It is a wonder you want to marry me, when you think so little of my character. You made me believe there was a chance of an ordinary life with you. You made me yearn for your kisses, hunger for your touch, dream of having a son with your eyes, a daughter with your smile, knowing you would never be able to give me the life I desire…a life you were fully aware I craved. This only reveals to me you care so little for the things I desire for my life.”
He flinched, and an emotion akin to despair flashed in the depth of his eyes. “Give me a chance to make amends. It was never my intention to hurt you, and I swear I will do all in my power to give you the life you crave. I have enough wealth so you can live how you please, do whatever you desire.”
Was such a thing possible with him? Her heart wavered, and she snapped her spine straight. A few pretty words would not make her resolve change. “No.”
A ruthless determination settled on his face. “Is there the possibility you can love me?”
I fear I already do. She shook her head in confusion. “What do you want from me?”
“Marry me, be my princess, my duchess, and I swear you will never want for anything.”
Pain twisted in her heart. He was a prince, a duke; he would rub shoulders with the highest of the haute monde. She would never fit into his world. She wanted to scream at him. Everything had been so perfect when he had been common. “I am not polished enough to be your princess or your duchess. You will be called to court and Parliament, be expected to host balls and political meetings, and I cannot envision such a life for myself.”
His eyes were steady on Payton; her carefully constructed mask of indifference was on the verge of crumbling.
“Then simply be my wife…my lover, and my friend.”
An inarticulate murmur slipped from her at the raw hunger in his eyes. Yes, her heart screamed, but her lips would not agree. The anxiety of trapping herself in such a world clamped around her heart, but the dread of losing him forever made her knees wobble. “I need time to think,” she gasped hoarsely.
He prowled closer; the sheer force of his magnetism and will pressed in on her, arousing fear and the heady sense of primal desire in equal measure.
He cupped her cheeks, the gentleness of his touch at odds with the emotions that darkened his gaze to cobalt. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and her breath hitched. Tilting her head more, he kissed her, a simple meeting of lips, an exchange of breath, without demand. “Be my lover and wife, Payton. That is all I ask. I will shield you from everything else.” His voice was a low soothing murmur, coaxing her to say yes and succumb to all the temptations and delight he had to offer.