The Royal Conquest(66)
She muffled the squeak and spun sharply.
Good heavens.
Mikhail stood in the doorway, obviously having recently emerged from a bath. He was dressed in formal trousers and jacket, complemented by a blue waistcoat and an expertly tied silken cravat. His black hair was neatly groomed, although slightly damp, without a strand out of place, his blue eyes were cool and distant; he was every inch the aristocrat. Against her own volition she was intrigued by this side of him. This man seemed cold and arrogant…more like a duke or prince than her Mikhail. She was overwhelmingly conscious of how much she had missed him, when only hours before she had been in his arms waltzing.
She loved him utterly.
An unbearable tension wound itself around her heart with the admission.
She buried the flare of pleasure at seeing him and gave him a look of pure disgruntlement. “Did you believe seeing books would make me forgive your deplorable behavior? Disabuse yourself of the notion, Mik—your highness.”
Regret flared in his eyes. “Please do not refer to me as such.”
Her heart softened. “I won’t if that is your wish.”
“I see you have refreshed yourself?”
“Are we to ignore the elephant in the room?”
His lips twitched. “I do not understand your phrase.”
“Very well, are you going to ignore the deplorable behavior I just mentioned?”
He grunted.
“You had me kidnapped.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
“Escorted,” he finally said.
She frowned. “To what end? You and I are—”
“Will you dine with me? Dinner will be served within the next hour.”
Oh. “I am not sure I can wait a full hour for you to tell me why you went through so much to bring me here.”
“Maybe I wanted to show you just a bit of what you would be giving up. You would be mistress of all you survey.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You know I have no interest in your wealth.”
A smile touched his lips.
Then another bout of terrible silence. They stood in the library simply staring at each other. Shadows of torment lingered in his eyes, and he tugged at the cravat at his throat. The nervous gesture made her heart ache.
“I would love to dine with you, Mikhail.”
His eyes were cold, his expression icy. “I thank you.”
So formal…so distant. Was now the time to tell him she loved him and wanted to be his wife? “Mikhail, I—”
“I will see you at seven.”
“Please wait.”
He fisted his hands at his side and then faced her. The powerful emotions in his eyes made her heart flip, but in a good way. “Tell me, please, why did you bring me here?”
“I am not able to let you go.”
Was he saying he loved her?
His eyes never strayed from her face. “I already have all the wealth and connections I could possibly want. I do not need a marriage to provide me with more. I want a marriage with a woman who respects me, trusts me, desires me, and above all, loves me.”
“I do,” she said, walking toward him. “I love you.”
For a heart-wrenching moment he did nothing. There was no reaction from his body or his eyes. And it petrified Payton. “Do you love me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his voice.
Sweet relief crashed through her, but there was a dark edge in his tone, and her heart squeezed in discomfort and slight fear. “You do not seem happy at the realization.”
Without speaking he thumbed the latch on the door and leaned against the wooden frame. His penetrating stare never wavered. “I know I adore you. The utter wonder of meeting you and knowing you have taken a piece of my heart, although I’ve only known you for seven days, has not escaped me. I do not need seven weeks or seven years to know you are the woman for me, Payton. I know it now. I see it in your smiles, your kisses, the passion and joy you find in the simple pleasures of life. What I see I admire, and I can only grow to love and appreciate you more. And it is because I feel such a need for you, I would prefer to release you rather than bind you to a life of pain and unhappiness.”
Fear, cold and dreadful, slithered through her, alarming in its extremity. “I do not fear your world.” She pushed past the lump in her throat. “The doubts are still there, and they may never leave, but I do not care. I want what you want, Mikhail. I want to be your lover, your friend, the woman you turn to when your nights are cold with nightmares, when you want to share a humorous anecdote, the person you turn to when you are angry and simply need to moan, the woman you want to have children with. I would desire this with you, even if you were a simple farmer. I want to marry you, and if I falter in the privileged world in which we will live, then I will make use of the power in the titles you so generously bestow.”