A honeymoon should be filled with sex. Even a honeymoon as unconventional as ours. But there was more I needed from Ren first. I leaned forward and kissed him. "You're just trying to distract me from asking any more inconvenient questions."

"Is it working?"

"You'll have to try harder. Later. After dessert. What did you bring us?"

"I was supposed to bring a pudding home, too?"

"You brought a bakery box home."

"I did, didn't I?"

I went to the island and retrieved it, while he made two cups of tea. He took them to the sofa and set them on the coffee table, along with two small plates and some paper napkins.

When I opened the box, it was filled with delicious-looking scones in a variety of flavors, elegantly arranged like a box of chocolates.

"Ladies first."

I picked one and watched to see which flavor he favored. "Orange," I said. "Your favorite?"

"What I'm in the mood for tonight." He grinned. "I like them all. Thanks for noticing, though."

I got the feeling he was used to his tastes and desires being invisible.

"Now, about those inconvenient questions," I said. "You have gargoyles holding up the corners of your gutters."

He relaxed and looked immensely pleased. It was touching, really. "Yeah, I do. You're one of the first people to notice so quickly. Have you been inspecting my house?"

"I may have walked around the outside, getting a good look in the daylight. And maybe around the inside, too." I took a bite of scone. "So, why gargoyles? And why the different expressions?"

"You noticed that, too?" he asked. "You do pay attention to detail."

I nodded.

"I like gargoyles," he said. "Why should they always be scowling and fierce? Gargoyles are our friends. That's what I thought when I was a boy. Anything else?"

I wondered if I should tip my hand. I made a snap decision. I set my scone down and walked to the nearby concrete wall, running my fingers over the rough texture. "Why a stone pattern on the concrete walls? Why not real stonework? Why not use the wood pattern of the form boards everywhere? That's more usual. And, shot in the dark here, less expensive."

"You're full of architectural questions," he said.

"If I'm going to allow you free rein with my castle apartment, I should be, right?"

"It's a design statement. Irony, almost," he said. "And it wasn't as expensive as you'd imagine. I have friends in the trades." He grinned at me. "These are your idea of inconvenient questions?"

I walked back to him and slid into his lap, straddling him. I took his face in my hands. "I'm just warming up, my darling duke." I stared deeply into his eyes. "Why are the gargoyles replicas of those from Manly Manor? Why are the stone patterns those of the castle, too? And why do all of your brilliant designs have some element of Manly Manor in them?"

I'd surprised him. His eyes widened. Then, to my surprise, he looked supremely pleased and flattered. "You're the first person to notice that. Ever. I've never mentioned it. Not in any interview or design brief. It's my little game to hide something in the design."

"I'm the only person familiar enough with the castle to see it."

"Yes, but how are you familiar with my designs?" He grabbed my hands. "You've been studying my work?"

"Guilty as charged."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know you," I said. "Body, soul, and mind. A wife should know her husband." I sighed. "And because once I started looking at one project, I couldn't stop. I wanted to see all the genius that's a Ren Sattler design."

He kissed my hands. "That's… I don't know what to say. Would you like to see some in person? I could show you some around the city tomorrow."

"I'd love that!" I grinned at him and rubbed against him, feeling the hardness in his slacks. "Now, how about answering my question—why the castle?" I hated to ruin the moment, but I had to know. I was compelled. And I had him where I wanted him.

He grabbed my hips. "I loved it once." He looked far away for a moment.

"You could love it again," I said softly. "Come live there with me. So we can really get to know each other. See whether this flame that's obviously burning between us burns out or burns brighter. Oversee the restoration and renovation work. Work with me to get the business off the ground and get the estate paying for itself. We'll work out a schedule, a way for you to have your London life and career and a life together." My heart pounded. "It's only for a year."

He pulled me to him and kissed me. "I'm not sure I can live there, really live there. I was never cut out to be the duke of the manor. That was Will's destiny. But I definitely want to get to know you, Bliss. I promise you to give that my best effort."

And he did. Right there on his immaculate sofa, in front of that huge, towering bank of windows. There was more, so much more I wanted to ask him. But I had to wait for the right time.

We had a beautiful evening together. I felt a bond between us growing. There are people in this world that you find yourself immediately getting close to. That you feel as if you've known forever and have a friendship that transcends time and distance. And others who will be strangers to you even if you've known them a lifetime. Ren was the first kind. With our sexual chemistry, it was an intoxicating combination.

I was humming softly to myself, happy, genuinely happy, as I got ready for bed. Here in London, Ren was a different person, and the whispers and gossip about him and his supposed dastardly deeds felt light years away. I used the last tissue in the box and called out to Ren, asking him if he had more.

"Under the sink on the left," he called from the bedroom.

When I opened the cabinet door, the boxes of tissue were exactly where he said they'd be. But a tube of lipstick was exactly where it shouldn't be. It rolled out at my feet with a clatter. I jumped back, startled, and let out a gasp of surprise as violent as if it had been a snake. My fingers shook as I picked it up.

Ren strode into the bathroom. "Something wrong—" He saw the lipstick in my hand immediately. He took it from me and tossed it in the wastebasket. "I always hated that shade." He forced a grin.

I stared at him. "You mean it's not your color?"

"Bliss—"

He took a step toward me.

I took a step back. "It's all right. It's fine. It's…Cory's?" I took a deep breath. "I need to know about Cory. So I know what I'm up against and how to act. And where we really stand."

He looked taken aback. "You don't beat around the bush, do you? You know about her? I thought you didn't follow your press? If you did, you'd know it's over."

"You came back to London to tell her about our marriage," I said. "You still had empty drawers in your dressing room until I moved into them this afternoon. You had a gap in your closet as if someone only very recently left. A tube of her lipstick just attacked me. And you had a knockdown, drag-out with her Sunday night, when you came back to London after the wedding. If it was over, she hadn't gotten the message."

He paled. His jaw set. "How do you know about the fight?"

"A wise man once told me never to trust Melly."

Ren swore beneath his breath and caught me by the arms. "It's been over for months. She took her things months ago. She must have missed the lipstick."

"From what I hear, it's 'been over' before," I said. "Many times."

He shook his head. "I've been a fool before, thinking I could change myself and how I feel about her. Cory's a wonderful, steadfast, patient woman. Too patient for her own good. And too good for me." He took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's not a very flattering picture of me."

"I think I need to." I leaned against the bathroom counter, tissues forgotten.

"I guess you deserve to." He leaned against the counter next to me. "Cory was the first woman I really cared about after Will died. I met her several years later, after my wild period of hooking up and trying to get out of my own head. I fell hard for her. And she was good for me and good to me. I needed someone steady." His Adam's apple bobbed. "And Cory was that steadying influence. But…" He looked down before I could read his expression.

"But?"

"I have my own issues," he said, sounding genuinely regretful. "One of them being fear of commitment. Cory wanted to get married and start a family. I couldn't do it. The truth was, her steadiness became…boring." He glanced at me.

I thought of Zoe and her reckless behavior.

"You think I'm a real douche?"

"I think we can't always choose how we feel."

"I broke it off," he said. "But Cory wanted me back. She wanted another shot. So we'd get back together. And then the fights would start because she wanted more and I didn't. I hate to admit it, but the fights were the most exciting thing about our relationship."

He slumped. "I, our relationship, was turning Cory into a person she wasn't and making her miserable. I finally manned up and ended it several months ago. For good. But given what I've told you about our history, you can understand she never thought it was really over? She thought we'd eventually get back together when I came to my senses. And showed up with a ring." He grimaced. "I felt I owed it to her to tell her about our marriage in person before she heard it somewhere else. She deserved that much. So I rushed back to London."

I put my hand on his arm. "So I'm not a rebound marriage of convenience?"

"No. Sorry. Just a plain old marriage of convenience, I'm afraid."

"Plain old? That's hardly flattering."

He caught me around the waist and pulled me to him. "There's nothing plain old about you and me, Bliss. You have to know that. You're all I think about since I met you. I should thank Uncle for forcing me to marry. I'd never have done it on my own." He tilted his head and angled his lips toward mine. "But please, never wear Carnelian Kiss?"

"I'll stick to other shades of reds, I promise. But, Ren, do we have to fight to keep the excitement in our relationship?"

"Oh, duchess." His voice became low and sensual. "Please, let's not. We have all the excitement I can handle and need."

I closed my eyes as he kissed me.

Thursday

Thursday was as much of a honeymoon day as we were likely to have. We woke early for sex, breakfasted at one of Ren's favorite neighborhood cafés, and went on a tour of some of his buildings. Seeing the excited side of Ren as he showed off his work and explained his vision gave me such a different view of him. This Ren was open and animated. Excited and fun. So at odds with the mysterious, brooding Ren of Manly Manor. It made me wonder, with some sadness, if the castle really was the best place for him.

And yet the castle was a part of him he couldn't deny. Ren was delighted when I pointed out the hidden Manly Manor details in his work. It became a game to see how fast I could point them out, kind of like architectural Where's Waldo. I was excited to see them in person. Excited that the buildings were even more stunning than in pictures.

Ren showed me the insides of the buildings, introduced me to clients who'd commissioned them, and took me behind the scenes to the inner workings and private offices. He had a deep interest and affection for history and making a place for modern architecture in it. The more we talked, the more I fell for him—and the more I had the feeling that fate had thrown us together.

There was a retail section inside one of the buildings. We walked past the shops on our way to the restaurant he wanted to take me to for lunch.

"You like black?" he said as we stopped in front of a boutique's window.

I admired a sexy, colorful fall blouse in the window.

"So you don't only wear black? Or, at least, you don't only like black?"

I stared at him. "What makes you say that? Why do you think I'm so fond of black?"

He gestured toward my black blouse and jeans. "I like your style, don't misunderstand. It's very hot. But a little color wouldn't hurt."

"I'm in mourning," I said. "I thought you Brits stood on tradition. I have to show Manly some respect."

"For how long?"

"A week," I said. "Or two. After the funeral, I'll switch to dove gray for a week, and then—"

He slid his arm around my waist and whispered, "This isn't the Victorian period. You're newly married. Shouldn't you let your wedded bliss show through?"

"Wedded Bliss. Very nice. Better than the Deadly Duchess, I suppose."

Ren grabbed my hand, pulled me into the shop, and bought the blouse I'd admired, insisting I change into it and wear it out.

It was beautiful and much more to my tastes than black, black, always black.

"Beautiful," Ren said when I came out of the dressing room, his eyes sparkling as his gaze ran over me. "You need dozens more."

I bought two more and we went to lunch. The restaurant staff recognized Ren and sat us at a lovely window table with a great view. We ordered and settled in with a bottle of wine.

"Thank you for the tour," I said.

He took my left hand in his. "My pleasure."

My large diamond glinted in the light.

Ren lifted my hand to get a better look at it. "I can't believe I married you with Uncle's ring. And not even a family heirloom, at that." His brow furrowed as he looked at me. "Do you like this?"

I shrugged. "Manly did. He repurposed the diamond from one of the family jewels and had it reset."

Ren's furrow deepened. "But do you like it? It looks very much like Uncle's tastes to me."

"Let's not have secrets between us," I said. "Why don't you just come out and say you hate it?"

He laughed. "I wouldn't have chosen it."

"Neither would I," I said. "But it really didn't matter. I didn't expect to be married to him long. Not liking it would only make it easier to take off after."

Ren released my hand suddenly. His expression darkened. "Why did you agree to marry him, Bliss? Really? Now that we know each other a little better, we can be more honest with each other. Uncle was an old fool. He'd been looking to marry a young woman with money for years. He was a big joke in my circles. My female friends made endless fun of him. The longer he went without finding someone… My friends said they weren't ever going to be—" He cut himself off.

"Desperate enough?" I said.

"Your words," he said. "We were all stunned when you appeared out of the blue—beautiful, rich, smart, confident. Not at all what we expected. We didn't think anyone would take him, especially not with his terms, and especially not a desirable woman."

I smiled at the compliment. "Mom wanted me to have a title. She thinks I'm her puppet. And it's best she does."

I took a sip of wine. "That way, she underestimates me. I'm not a fool. And I'm not desperate. I knew what I wanted. I know how to compete. Most people like to describe me as a pampered little heiress. But I have a bachelor's degree in computer science and an MBA. Someday, I'll inherit Mom's empire. I've been working in it since college.

"But I need to show Mom I can build a business from scratch before she'll trust me with her baby after she's gone. The last thing I want is for her to leave control to one of her cronies. Some people would disagree that I'm starting from scratch, because I have Mom's money behind me. I like to think of it as venture capital."

I paused, wondering how vulnerable and honest I should be. "I grew up in a low-touch, high-tech household. My parents divorced when I was young. Mom was always focused on her career and Dad on his own life. I dreamed of starting a business that was high touch and personal. I love history. I'd never really been in love—"

"You've never been in love?" Ren looked incredulous. And maybe sad. Or possibly even impressed. He was always hard to read. "How did that happen? Guys would be crazy not to chase you."

"I've had boyfriends and puppy love," I said, flattered he, a gorgeous man with his pick of women, thought I was worth pursuing. "And flings and fun."

"But never love?"

"It's hard to tell whether men love me or my mom's money," I said. "It makes them hard to love back. You must think I'm emotionally unavailable. A cold fish. A hard heart."

"Not at all," he said. "And me? Why did you marry me?"

"You only married me for half a castle, not billions," I teased. "You signed a prenup."

"So I did." He poured himself another glass of wine. "Better to have not loved, I suppose, than to have loved unwisely." His expression clouded. He was talking about himself. "Sorry. You were telling me about Manly when I diverted the conversation."

I shrugged. "It's not so very interesting. My career and life kept me too busy to have time for a serious relationship. But I wanted children, and wanted them while I was young. And I wanted to raise the children the way I wanted. With lots of love and attention. Short of going to a sperm bank or adopting—" I leaned toward Ren across the table. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Can I keep a secret?" He lifted an eyebrow.

I laughed. I was trying to pry secrets out of him, and we both knew it. "I never had any intention of consummating my marriage with Manly. We were going to use a fertility specialist. In case you were wondering, he'd frozen his sperm years ago. When he was more…fertile. So, basically, yeah, I was going to a private sperm bank."

Ren looked both relieved and amused. "So I can wash all those images of you lusting after a centenarian out of my head?"

"What is it with people imagining my sex life?" I shook my head and sighed in mock exasperation.

"If you're talking to me, I don't have to imagine that hard." He ran his gaze over me like he could see right through my clothes.

I nearly blushed. "Stop it. You're terrible."

He grinned.

I leaned back into my chair and sat up straight. "To my point, marrying Manly gave me the opportunity for everything I wanted. There was never much doubt that he wouldn't live long enough to see his children grown. They'd be mine. All mine."

"Greedy woman. You need to rub your hands together to really sell your point."

I raised my wine glass to him.

Ren's expression changed suddenly. He looked contemplative. "Marrying me wasn't just about the castle?"

"No." It was also about lust and longing. And the desire to connect with another person on an intimate level. To see where our chemistry and connection took us. But I couldn't tell him that.

"So why did you marry me?" he asked. "Unless I'm hit by a bus, I very much plan on living long enough to raise my children. And be a father to them in every sense. Any woman who selfishly wants to raise them without help would be well advised to avoid me."

I smiled seductively, amused by him. "Too late for that deal breaker now. If only I'd known." I snapped my fingers. "Seriously? It was a calculated risk. Worst case, we're stuck together for a miserable year and I get half a castle. Best case, we fall madly in love and make a beautiful family together, living happily ever after in a castle. In the middle, you're a beautiful sperm donor and the process is fun."

He laughed. "I'd prefer ruggedly handsome. But women like to call me beautiful for some odd reason. I've learned to live with it. At least you're honest."

"And you married me," I said, "because deep down you know you don't want to be the duke who lost the family estate. Am I right?"

"Maybe I just wanted a beautiful egg donor and incubator for my heir. Ever think of that?"