“He is still out there. It’s been two days!” Rosalie craned her neck as she and her sister peered out the window for what was likely the thousandth time since Leo had set up camp outside. A warm fire blazed right in the middle of the road, forcing everyone to reroute around him, as His Highness casually reclined in a settee—a mere portion of the furniture that had been brought out for his comfort from the inn across the street.

“The weather could easily turn. He’s going to catch his death,” Lucille added, fretful.

Not if Suzanne killed him first.

As luck would have it, the weather was working against her. What little dusting of snow they’d had this unseasonably warm winter was completely gone. The last two days and nights had been the mildest she’d seen in weeks. Leo was bearing the warmer temperatures easily—without any distress at all. She, on the other hand, hadn’t slept since his arrival. If she wasn’t thinking about Leo’s inflaming kiss, she was plagued with concerns over this ludicrous situation he’d created.

And the stir he’d made in the town.

Was he ever going to leave? Surely, he was getting tired of being out there.

No?

As Leo’s men and the innkeeper catered to him throughout the day, making certain that he had a constant supply of food and drink, people from all over Maillard were descending on her shop just to catch a glimpse of one of the most powerful ducs in the realm. Most had never been in the proximity of a man from such elevated bloodlines. Yet, Leo seemed totally oblivious to the crowds as he sat comfortably reclined—hands laced behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles—with his attention fixed on her shop. And a contented smile on his face. It appeared he had no idea that he was causing townspeople to flock to her shop, interrupt her work, just to inquire why the duc was stationed outside her door.

She was tempted to tell them she was treating him for excessive flatulence.

Instead, she politely suggested they direct their questions to the Duc de Mont-Marly himself—knowing none would ever be so bold.

Suzanne pulled a hard wooden bowl off the shelf, threw in a handful of almonds, and started on Madame Rideau’s indigestion remedy. Trying—needing—to keep busy. Using her pestle, she pulverized the almonds with great zeal, venting some frustration.

“Oh, you simply must see what the duc is wearing today, Suzanne,” Rosalie said, all aflutter over this whole ordeal. “He is looking so very handsome. Princely, I’d say. I’ve never seen such costly material!”

Oh no. Absolutely not.

Suzanne wasn’t about to go anywhere near that front window. Leo had made it a habit to remain outside until well past midnight each night before retiring to his room at the inn.

The man had caught her peeking at him from her second-floor bedroom window directly above her shop. Every time.

Each time, he’d grin and wave.

Or blow her a discreet kiss.

He was driving her to distraction.

“I’m certain his attire is wonderful,” she said, smashing more almonds. “Rosalie, would you please fetch me the mustard seeds? Lucille, kindly check on the roasting oats for Monsieur Marchey’s purgative.” Hopefully that would draw the two women away from the window. Leo didn’t need more people gawking at him.

And she did not need any more recounts of how attractive he was.

“I have the mustard seeds right here.” Rolland sported his usual cheery smile and held up the clay jar he’d just obtained from the back room. “And I’ve just checked on the roasting oats. They look almost ready.”

She stopped pulverizing the almonds, took a deep breath, and schooled her features, knowing she was scowling. Neither Rolland nor her assistants should be at the receiving end of one of her scowls.

That should be reserved strictly for the exasperating, single-minded duc living outside her door.

“Thank you, Rolland. You’ve been an incredible help these past two days. It has been very much appreciated.” Having Rolland around again was both wonderful and painful. It brought back bittersweet memories of her father and his years of working with the young doctor. It only made her miss her sire more.

And that, too, she blamed on Leo.

If that weren’t enough, there was an entirely different issue currently eroding what little mental peace she had left. One that had invaded her thoughts in the wee hours of the morning.

What in the world was the third reason?

Leo had told her he’d come for three reasons. The first was to offer his condolences. The second was to convince her to return with him to Montbrison.

But, after a second night void of any repose, as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, it occurred to her he’d never told her the third.

Why are you wasting a moment’s thought on any of this? In her mind’s eye, she could still see Leo’s impassive face as he told her that their night together had meant nothing to him and that he was marrying another.

She had been doing her best to get on with her life—without her father—before Leo’s arrival. Leo was only making things more challenging for her. Her father’s death had been so sudden and unexpected. Leaving a gaping void in her life. And now that he was gone, she fought to live in the moment and not drown in sorrow. Or self-pity. Each morning she donned a mask of bravery and refused to anguish over the fact that she was alone.

Leo was a formidable force to contend with. He could cause far too much damage to a woman’s heart if he was entrusted with it. He wasn’t going to sweep in and level her world again when she was already struggling to keep it from collapsing. All she had to do was stay strong and not give in to Leo’s seductive charms.

She’d wait it out. Leo couldn’t remain outside indefinitely.

Then she could return to her life, or what was left of it.

She tossed more almonds into her bowl and crushed them, with little success in alleviating her distress.

Finally, she dropped her pestle in the wooden bowl. “I’ll finish madame’s elixir later. I’m going to the market.”

Some fresh air and spending time demonstrating and selling her new matchsticks would do her good.

* * *

Leo saw Suzanne exit her shop, basket in hand. He was on his feet in an instant.

Thank God… He was starting to go fucking mad with restlessness.

He’d never waited for any woman the way he’d waited for her. Further proof of how far gone he was when it came to this one particular female. He’d never put in this much effort for a woman. He never had to.

Suzanne was the only exception he’d ever made.

He hadn’t followed her yesterday or the day before as she delivered her remedies and visited her patients. He’d given her some distance yet kept his presence known before her shop. But today, Dieu, today he was going to do something—anything—that would move matters along and speed up her decision to come with him.

Before the weather changed and he bloody well froze his sac off.

He wasn’t about to spend the entire winter living outside her shop—any more than he was going to give up and walk away without gaining a second chance.

An unexpected gust of wind blew the hood of her brown cloak off her head. Gorgeous long dark curls rustled on the breeze and brushed away from the sweetest face he’d ever known.

His body ignited. Jésus-Christ, she made him ache. He was still so in love with her. And there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it to make peace with it.

Except win her back.

She was part of the common class. Of ordinary origin. Yet, it was vastly apparent that even after being separated for years, he’d never recovered from the impact she’d made on him. He couldn’t even tell her how deeply he felt. At least not yet.

Voicing soft sentiment wasn’t typical for him. She’d been the only one he’d ever uttered the words to. And given her reaction to his endearment the other day, at the moment, she’d only deem any of his amorous declarations to be false.

Suzanne cast him a glance, shook her head in dismay, then turned and walked off, her long cloak snapping sharply behind her.

Looking far too saucy.

His hungry prick pressed hard against the inside of his breeches.

Leo couldn’t help but smile, despite the discomfort he was in. Only she could make saucy look tantalizing. Oh, the things he was going to do to her sweet little form when she was his again… He was going to put all that fire inside her to such delicious use.

He raced up and fell in step beside her. “Good morning, Suzanne.”

She stared straight ahead, maintaining her rapid steps. “Please go away.” She rubbed her cloak near her shoulder.

He took a brief moment to delight in the scent of jasmine emanating from her skin, and in the lines of her lovely profile. He’d always adored that endearing little nose.

“I’d be delighted to leave Maillard. When shall we depart?”

That arrested her steps. She turned and faced him squarely, her big brown eyes meeting his gaze firmly. “Your Grace, we are not departing. But I do hope you are.”

“When are you going to start calling me Leo again?”

“At the moment, there are a number of names I’d like to call you. Leo isn’t one of them,” she said and resumed her strides, walking away from him.

He laughed. “Come with me to Montbrison, and you can tell me your favorites along the way,” he called out, then caught up to her again. “You’ve got your matchsticks, I see. I saw your demonstration yesterday to one of your patients outside your shop. Very impressive,” he said sincerely.

“Thank you.” She reached up and rubbed her shoulder again.

“Is there something the matter with your shoulder?”

“No.”

“Then why do you keep rubbing it?”

She stopped, and let out a sharp sigh before turning to face him again. “Because this is my lucky cloak. Good things happen to me when I rub it. Such as coming up with the much-needed solution of how to get the matchsticks to ignite by using a flour paste. But the cloak isn’t working anymore.”

He battled back a smile. She was still assigning good fortune to inanimate objects. “It isn’t?”

“No. You are still here.” Her voice was tinged with fatigue. He wondered if she was getting any more sleep than he was. Thoughts of her, of how near she was, had kept him up most of the night. “When are you going to give up this game?”

“I should think my waiting for you for the last two days would prove that this isn’t a game. I am quite serious,” he said. “And I’m not giving up.”

“This is indeed a game. We’ve played many games as children, and you have never liked to lose. You came here thinking you could use your polished manner and good looks, and I would give myself to you, as I did before. Yet, now you find yourself too entrenched in your charade, not willing to lose face—or retreat—and that is why you are still waiting outside. The more difficult the catch, the sweeter the prize, no? At least admit the truth.”

It was true. He did hate to lose. And he’d lived with the staggering loss of her for too long. He wished he could tell her so and actually have her believe him.

Leo rested his hands on his hips to keep from reaching out and touching her. She was so skittish, he had no doubt she’d bolt if he tried.

A single silky curl tickled her cheek in the breeze. How he wanted to gently brush it behind her ear and pull her against him—more than he wanted his next breath.

“All right. Here are some plain truths. If all I wanted was sex, Suzanne, there’s no need to sit outside your shop to wait for it. Or to come here at all. There has never been a short supply of willing women at court.” He wasn’t going to even remotely pretend he’d led the life of a celibate monk. As Constance basked in the glow of her affair, he’d delved into drink and debauchery.

Extensively.

“I would not be out here and risk freezing that part of my ‘male anatomy I’m rather fond of,’” he said, repeating her earlier words, “if this was nothing more than bed sport. As for worrying about losing face, I’m no longer a child, playing childish games. With a childish mind. If I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought when I’d been cuckolded by my wife, why would I suddenly be concerned about ‘losing face’? And since we are finally talking, here are some more truths: I had a duty to my family I could not shirk seven years ago. The marriage contract had been signed by both families weeks prior to our night together. And I knew it. I was well aware that as heir, I was going to have to marry a woman I barely remembered meeting, for the sake of the d’Ermarts’ political gain and advancement of power,” he said, practically sneering.

His familial obligations soured his insides and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d grown to despise his birthright long ago. His “privileged” birth had come at a vast personal cost. He’d been told throughout his life that as a d’Ermart, he could have anything he wanted.

A bloody lie.

What he’d wanted all along was the woman before him with the smudged shoes. And lucky cloak. “And yes, I purposely withheld the betrothal from you. I fought within myself, vacillating between staying away from you. Or acting on the carnal cravings we both harbored for each other. Finally, I chose the latter—when I had no right to—for one simple reason.”

“Oh? And what was that?”

“I simply couldn’t live a lifetime never knowing what it was like to make love to you.”

That took her by surprise.

Her eyes widened, and he could have sworn there was a slight softening before she rapidly retreated back behind her defenses. Merde. Witnessing her apprehension to trust him yet again staggered him. This wasn’t getting any easier to see. Not when they’d had the tightest bond once. Not when he’d been so accustomed to a very different Suzanne.

One who had the world of faith in him.

And he had no one to blame for her mistrust but himself and the horrible way he’d handled everything years ago.

“I miss the Suzanne who took chances and risks and did everything with great passion and zeal. Fearlessly. Take a chance today. Come home with me. Let us see what might be between us again. I was once the only person you allowed yourself to be truly open and vulnerable with,” he reminded her softly. “Will you let me past the pain I caused? Lower those tall walls you have insulated yourself behind. Let me see that woman again. I know she is in there, waiting to be cherished. Allow me to be the one to cherish her. I know there is pain deep inside her. And grief. Let me help heal it. There is no one who knows her heart, body, and mind better than I do.”

Briefly, Leo pressed a gentle finger over her heart. “Let me see inside here again,” he whispered.

She looked away, then raised a hand and lightly tugged at her earlobe. There it was. That adorable odd little habit she had when she was deep in thought. His heart pounded away the moments. The mere fact that she was even contemplating his words was monumental.

When she met his gaze again, her beautiful brown almond-shaped eyes shone with heart-sinking distrust. She shook her head. “I have already lost one home because of you. I’m here to sell my matchsticks to ensure I won’t lose another after you leave.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

“That’s what you said the last time. Quite convincingly, I might add, just before I gave myself to you. And as I recall, shortly afterward you also said I was a good tumble, and that I was never meant to be more.”

Fuck.

“I meant none of the things I said to you the day we parted. I admit I was a colossal ass. I thought if I made you hate me, it would make our parting easier for you. It would spare you pain afterwards.”

“Well, it seems you failed on both counts. I didn’t feel hate. And I did feel pain. At least we agree on the ass part.”

She turned on her heel to leave. Leo caught her hand and, in one fluid motion, yanked her into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes, and pressed her back against the wall.

She gasped.

“What… What are you doing?” She couldn’t have sounded more surprised. There was a slight panic in her voice.

He braced his palms against the wall on either side of her shoulders. “Since you won’t allow me a moment alone with you, I’m seizing one.”

Her gaze shot out to the street. “What if someone sees us? What are they going to say? You’ve made enough of a spectacle—”

“They’re not going to say a damned thing. I’ve ordered Gilles to make it clear to all the curious onlookers that the House of d’Ermart holds you and your father in the highest esteem and that we would consider it a gross personal insult for anyone to conduct themselves to the contrary toward you.”

She squirmed anxiously. “Why are we here? You aren’t going to kiss me, are you? You…you said you wouldn’t kiss me again unless we were at Montbrison. Lying again, were you?”

Her nervous excitement was palpable.

So was that delicious fire that was smoldering between them. She wasn’t fooling him. He knew that there was at least a part of her that wanted to be kissed, and it was unsettling her. His dark-haired beauty was using the taunt as a way to stave off the carnal intensity they both knew would spike on intimate contact.

“I promised I’d be honest with you. No lies,” he assured her, though at the moment he wished he hadn’t made the pledge not to kiss her unless at Montbrison. “Here is another truth. I know I hurt you deeply. It grieves me, more than you could ever know. And I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused.” Leo slipped his fingers under her chin, bringing her mouth a fraction closer. Jésus-Christ, he wanted to slowly savor those luscious lips. “But I can’t say that I’m sorry for our night together. That would be a lie. I count our night as one of the most incredible nights of my life.”

Suzanne’s heart raced.

She was in trouble.

Very big trouble.

His words were starting to have an effect on her. His apology had been completely unexpected, and it inspired a familiar emotional stirring. One that terrified her to the marrow.

If that weren’t bad enough, the heat from his fingers was seeping through her system and pooling in her belly. She had the maddening urge to grab his ears and yank him to her. Anything that would give her a taste of his tempting mouth. And garner her physical contact with his hard-muscled form.

So, you crave to feel some real bliss…like the decadent pleasures Leo introduced you to.

But she wanted more than that. Beyond the physical. She wanted love. Real, unconditional love from a man whose affections would not be capricious. A love that was deep, unwavering, steadfast. A husband whose arms would comfort and strengthen her. A connection with honesty and respect that couldn’t be broken. No matter what.

Just as her father had described he’d had with her mother.

You can’t weaken now. This man is high nobility. A celebrated libertine with a trail of broken hearts left in his wake wherever he goes. And you are far beneath his station of birth.

Nothing good could come of this for you…

“As for the kissing, you do need to be kissed, Suzanne. Long and hard,” he continued, his thumb lightly grazing her bottom lip with titillating effect. Her nipples tightened. “And at Montbrison, I intend to kiss you from your pretty mouth…all the way down to that delectable little bud between your legs.” At the mention of that part of her anatomy, a hot pulse quivered through her core. Her knees almost buckled.

“But not until you beg for it,” he whispered with a smile. Releasing her face, he pressed his hands against the stone wall again and tilted his head, keeping his mouth tantalizingly close. No doubt to escalate her hunger.

And, damn it, it was thoroughly working on her starved senses.

“Do you remember it, Suzanne? Do you remember how much you loved having your pretty pink clit in my mouth? I know how to build the pleasure…until you can’t take it anymore. I know how to make you come so very hard…” Dear God. The ache between her legs was growing fiercer with every soft, seductive word he spoke.

“We were once compatible in every way. Do you ever allow yourself to remember how good it was between us?” he asked. “Do you recall all the laughter and confidences we shared? The affinity was as potent as the carnal connection we had. Do you remember it?”

“I’ve done everything in my power to forget it. All of it,” she said, hoping she sounded firm despite the chaos inside her.

She had to put an end to this, for the sake of her sanity. He was eliciting physical and emotional responses she wanted to quell.

Shoving a hand against his chest, she managed to move him back a bit. Ignoring the heat of his body against her palm. “What about you, Your Grace?” she countered, intent on turning the tables on him and hopefully quashing this conversation completely. “Since you’ve declared yourself to be an ‘honest man’ now, just how many times have you remembered any of it? How many times have I entered your thoughts in the past seven years?”

“You want the absolute truth?”

“Yes, the absolute truth.” She found herself suddenly braced for his response, and she had no idea why.

“Once,” he said.

“Oh.”

Disappointment lanced through her. And she mentally chastised herself for it. It shouldn’t matter what his response was.

He cupped her cheek with one hand. “You entered my thoughts only once, immediately after your departure from Montbrison, and you haven’t left my mind since.”

That sent a wild flutter in her stomach. “Oh…”

Will you stop saying, “Oh.” Not exactly your most brilliant response.

Dare you believe him?

He’d been back in her life for only a few days and he was already overwhelming her mind and body. She had to get away. She needed time to think. To catch her breath. And collect herself.

“I have to go,” she said, hoping her voice sounded firm. Yet, her feet seemed stuck.

“Would you like to know what else I’m thinking?” His thumb stroked her cheek, the sensation streaking down to the tips of her breasts. She couldn’t suppress her shiver.

She pushed his hand away from her face, having difficulty concentrating when he touched her like that. “I’m certain it is scandalous in nature.”

He chuckled. “Besides that. I’m thinking that part of you wants to come with me to Montbrison.”

“No, I do not.” She felt the immediate twinge, her heart objecting to her words. Late last night, she’d pictured herself back in Montbrison, a place that had been the happiest home she’d ever known. In her mind’s eye, it was a beautiful Christmas, just as they used to be, surrounded by people who’d cared about her, like dear Elisabeth and Aurore.

But then there was Leo.

He was the obstacle.

She was too unsure what to make of him. And his words. Any of this.

A big purely male grin formed on his far too handsome face. “I think you do. You just need a little encouragement.”

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing around the corner.

What in the world is that supposed to mean?