“Colin, please calm down.” Mina emerged from the dressing room she’d found through a low, concealed doorway hidden behind part of the red velvet drapery in Nick’s bedchamber.

Her cousin had woken her with a series of knocks loud enough to bring the entire club to attention. She was only grateful that he’d brought the traveling gown she’d worn to London. Taking a few minutes to wash and change into the skirt and bodice had given her an excuse to escape her cousin’s tirade.

“How can you be so serene? Your reputation—”

“You keep saying that word as if I’m some debutante. No one in Barrowmere will care how I spent my evening.”

He blushed so fiercely, she thought he might catch fire.

“Certainly no one in London cares what I do.”

“What of the duke? Will London not care that the Duke of Tremayne kidnapped an innocent from a Mayfair dinner party?”

“That’s not at all what happened and you know it.” If not for Colin’s already riled state, Mina would have laughed. “What’s gotten into you? Do you secretly read scandal rags when I’m not looking?”

“No, but if I did, I’ve no doubt you and Tremayne would get a mention in this morning’s edition.” He stalked past the fireplace and then dropped onto one of the gold damask settees, lowering his head to his hands. “I should have protected you.”

“I’m not a child, Colin. I’m older than you are, for heaven’s sake. A spinster, most would say.”

“Let’s just go home.” He glanced at her, and she’d never seen him more forlorn. “The next train leaves in less than an hour.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I speak to him.” In the last few hours, she’d slept in Nick’s arms and been closer to him than to anyone she’d ever known. Even if they’d never have more than those hours, she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

She’d hated waking alone in the enormous bed, the sheets still warm where Nick had slept. According to Colin, he’d brought Mr. Iverson and Lord Huntley to confront Nick, and she wondered if he’d hated leaving her as much as she disliked waking without him.

“The man is a scoundrel, Mina.” Her cousin stood and faced her, his gaze bleak and beseeching. “Please don’t set your heart on him.”

“It’s too late for that,” she admitted quietly. Far too late.

“I don’t want to see you hurt, as you were before.”

“That was infatuation.”

“And this? What’s different about Tremayne?”

“Everything.” She couldn’t catalog her feelings or sift them. They were too fresh, and Colin wasn’t in any mood to understand.

“Well, then we must hope Mr. Iverson and Lord Huntley can convince him.”

Mina ignored her cousin’s bluster and busied herself collecting the gown she’d borrowed from Mr. Iverson. She laid the red velvet dress on a side table, smoothed out the wrinkles, then bent to collect Nick’s dove-gray waistcoat. A flash of color caught her eye, and she kneeled to examine a long pink ribbon that had fallen from the pocket.

Her ribbon.

A burst of warmth filled her chest. He’d kept her ribbon, tucked it away, right against his chest. That’s where she would have happily remained all day if Colin hadn’t arrived.

She smile, picked up the strip of satin, and tucked it back into Nick’s waistcoat. As if she’d emerged from a daze, Colin’s words finally registered.

“Convince the duke of what?” A twisting queasiness filled her stomach when Colin looked at her as if she’d gone daft.

“To marry you, of course.”

Mina shook her head and hugged Nick’s waistcoat to her chest. The scent of him gave her a modicum of comfort, but not enough to diminish the horror of Nick’s two friends attempting to force him into marriage.

“He must make his own choice, Colin.” After what he’d endured as a child, the man deserved to make all of his decisions freely.

Not that the prospect of spending every future day with him, in his arms, in his bed, wasn’t what her heart ached for, but how would it work? He was a duke. She wasn’t prepared to be a duchess.

Nick might loathe his ducal responsibilities, but he had to know that marrying a blueblooded lady and providing an heir to the Tremayne dukedom was one of them. Perhaps the most important of all.

She’d known last night that the decision to be with him would be irrevocable, and she wouldn’t take back a single moment, even if she could.

“He must do what’s right by you, Mina.” Colin came forward and placed a hand on her arm.

“I need to speak to him.”

“Yes.” Nick spoke the single word from the threshold. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Mina had no notion how long Nick had been standing in the doorway. She only knew that the sound of his voice sent shivers across her skin. Her body responded to him differently now, as if some part of her was more alive when he was near.

“Would you excuse us, Mr. Fairchild? Downstairs, you’ll find a ticket purchased for your return to Sussex. There’s a hansom waiting out front to deliver you to the station.” The entire time Nick spoke to Colin, he kept this gaze fixed on Mina.

She didn’t miss how his eyes kept flickering down to her mouth. Each spot where his gaze lit, she felt a gentle pressure, like the brush of his lips against her skin.

“I am not leaving this room without Mina.” Colin stepped too close to Nick, a brawl-sparking distance. But Nick didn’t spare him a glance. He kept his gaze on Mina.

“You are, Colin. Please go home,” she urged. “I promise to come back by nightfall.” She lifted an eyebrow at Nick in question.

He nodded. “Mina and I will return this afternoon.”

“Then it’s settled?” Colin sounded breathless and utterly relieved. “Lord Huntley convinced you?”

Before Nick could answer, Mina approached her cousin.

“Colin, come and call at Enderley tomorrow. We’ll speak then.” She kissed him on the cheek and stepped away. She was done with his attempt to save her from her own resolve.

Finally, Colin relented. When he’d gone, Nick closed the door and waited.

She could read nothing in his expression but desire, and it set off sparks inside her. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t donned so many clothes.

The moment she started toward him, he began to speak.

“We have much to discuss.”

Mina kept on until her chest was pressed against his. He tipped his head down to hold her gaze.

“I’d prefer that you kiss me.” She followed the edge of his mouth with her finger. His lips were full and flushed and bee-stung from the countless kisses they’d exchanged in the dark.

Taking her finger between his lips, he suckled her fingertip before releasing it. Then he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. She thought the kiss might be perfunctory, but the moment their lips met, she knew they could never be that way with each other again.

She loved that the taste of him was familiar now, that she knew how to kiss him to make a moan emerge from deep in the back of his throat.

When they were breathless, he turned with her, bracing her against the door, the hard length of him nudging the spot where she wanted him most.

“You don’t have to do it,” she said between kisses.

He bit gently at her neck. “At this point, I’m not sure if I can stop.” He laved the skin he’d bitten with his tongue and began dragging her skirt up.

“I meant marriage.”

His breathing was ragged, and he didn’t stop touching her, at least. But he tensed, his shoulder muscles hard as stone under her fingers.

“I know that Lord Huntley spoke to you.”

He lifted his head, but he wouldn’t look at her. He fixed his gaze on the panel of door next to her head. “You’d say no if I asked?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. You haven’t asked.”

Nick’s insides went from raging need to icy misery in a heartbeat.

All the way back to his chamber, he’d rehearsed ways to broach the topic. Ways to ask Mina to be his wife. He’d done battle with himself. She deserved a far better man than him. But he was enough of a selfish bastard that he could never imagine letting her go.

He didn’t live a life suited to matrimony. His days and nights were consumed by Lyon’s, and he’d never shared a bed with anyone in his life, aside from the extraordinary peace he’d found beside Mina for a few hours on this too short night.

She was a creature of the countryside, of racing across meadows on horseback and managing an estate where she cared more about others’ needs than her own.

She’d be a bird in a cage at Lyon’s. He could provide her luxurious surroundings, but not the open air and endless stretch of land she’d been born to. Everything that mattered to her was at Enderley, and the very thought of the place brought back memories he still wanted to forget.

“Nick?”

He hated the worried frown on her face, the pinch between her brows, the uncertain way she pursed her mouth. She deserved to have happiness and the home that she desired.

That, he could do. He might not be a good man, but he was a duke. Duke of the only place in England she loved.

An idea took hold in his mind. A means of securing her happiness while giving him more than he could ever deserve.

He took her hands in his, stroked his thumbs over her knuckles, noted the ink smudges on her fingers, the indentation from where she held her pen.

“Marry me, Mina.” His voice quaked, and he was fairly certain the ground was cracking beneath his feet, judging by how steady his legs felt.

“You’re asking me.” She was blinking, not truly looking at him, or anything. Just blinking as if he’d shocked her. “You’re truly saying the words.”

“Shall I try again?”

She nibbled her lower lip and lines of hesitation pinched her brow. “You’ve been forced into his, haven’t you?”

“No one forces me into anything.” He notched his chin up.

She retreated, slipping her hands from his body and stepping away. Nick reached for her. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t think.”

“Then don’t think. Just say yes.”

“I’m confused, Nick. This feels wrong.”

He let go of her hand and she took another step away. That’s when he knew. He couldn’t let her go. Even a few inches between them felt too far.

“I’ll give you everything you want.” Nick had heard of men dying because their hearts seized while they were engaged in the most mundane tasks. Proposing wasn’t mundane for him, but judging by the wrenching pain behind his ribs, he was no longer certain he’d live to hear her answer.

“Do you know what I truly want?” There was such hopefulness in her honeyed brown eyes.

“Yes.” This part was easy. Of Mina’s desires, he had no doubts. “Marry me and Enderley is yours. Live there. Improve it. Refurbish the estate from head to toe. Whatever funds you need, you’ll have them.”

She reared back, a look of wonder softening her features. But then the frown came back, more fiercely than before.

“You can hire more staff. Select the best artists to paint fresh murals in the ballroom. Fill the stables, if you like. Order a new carriage.” That part he would insist on himself.

Her mouth slackened. Her hands hung motionless at her sides.

Nick didn’t know what else to offer. Fine clothes? Jewels? Baubles didn’t seem Mina’s style.

“Redecorate the library. Purchase whatever books you please. Add new shelves full of them, if you like.”

Nick stopped talking because he wanted with all of his soul to hear her speak. Three letters. One little word. A single breath. He’d never wanted to hear yes more in his life.

She bowed her head.

Nick’s body buzzed with nervous anticipation. He had no doubt she was composing some polite reply, but he dreaded that it would not be the answer he needed to hear.

When she looked up, her eyes were glistening. “And you?”

“Me?”

“Where will you be while I’m at Enderley?”

“Here at Lyon’s.” He swallowed hard before adding the rest. “I’ll visit you when I’m able, and if you’d be willing, I’d like you here.” Always. “As often as you wish to come to London.”

She licked her lips. He could see her pondering, almost hear the clockwork gears of her sharp mind sifting the matter.

“We could purchase a townhouse,” he added, the thought that should have been obvious to him coming clearer. A duchess did not live in the bowels of a gentlemen’s club. “In Mayfair or Belgravia. You choose.”

“So . . .” she started, but didn’t finish the thought.

The tenterhooks Nick hung on began to tear at his insides. “So?”

“This is to be a very practical arrangement?”

“Absolutely.” Nick knew how she loved practical solutions. He would give her the most sensible marriage in the history of wedlock if it would win her.

“You need an heir.”

“I don’t care about that.” He swiped a hand through the air, pushing that obstacle away. She had to know that he didn’t want her as a broodmare. The Tremayne lineage could burn in hell as far as he was concerned.

Unless . . . “Do you want children?”

“Up until a few hours ago, I believed I’d die a spinster.” She gave him a sad little smile that nearly broke him in two. With a longing gaze at the bed, she added, “But we must think rationally. As your duchess, producing a son would be my duty.”

His cock twitched to life. Suddenly he wanted nothing so much as to devote himself earnestly to producing an heir. He imagined ways of starting immediately—taking her on the bed, near the bed, against the bedpost.

She approached until they were toe to toe.

“If I’m in Sussex . . .” Her palm came down on midsection, and Nick let out a tiny gasp of relief to have her touching him again. “And you’re here in London.” She trailed her fingers down his row of shirt buttons, her nails clicking on each one. “Then that becomes a tricky proposition.” With one searching slide of her hand, she found how ready he was for her. She shaped his hardened length boldly, gaze fixed on his.

“Mina.” He breathed her name and that was all he could manage before he bent and claimed her lips. Cradling her neck, he pulled her closer, kissed her hungrily. She stroked him until he feared he’d spill. “I need your answer.”

She released him, then pressed her palm low on his belly. “I don’t know what answer I should give.”

Nick kissed her cheek. “Yes.” Then the corner of her mouth. “Tell me yes.”

She shook her head, moving her lips away from his.

He caught her chin, held her gaze, prayed she could see that he’d laid himself bare before her.

“Please,” he said softly. “What more can I give you?”

“You’ve offered me so much.” Her hand came up, caressing his scarred cheek. “More than anyone would say I deserve.” She inhaled sharply, as if trying to catch her breath. “But a part of me will always be that girl who loves fairy tales.”

“Fill the library with them.” Yes, he knew that was part of her and thanked the gods for her childhood love of fanciful stories. Perhaps it was why she might be willing to bind herself to a monster.

“Love.” She waited, breathing in short, shallow breaths. “That’s the only thing you didn’t offer me. I’m afraid I don’t wish to marry without it. If we wed, will there be love?”

The pain that clutched at his chest a moment before became a Herculean fist around his heart, smashing the organ to a pulp. Nick’s throat wouldn’t work. His mind emptied. All he could see was Mina and sense the future he wanted with her slipping through her fingers.

The word was easy enough to speak, but this wasn’t a bluff. He refused to put any cards on the table that he didn’t truly mean to play. Everything he had, he’d gladly give her, but he knew she was asking for something more. A fairy-tale prince with a noble heart and romantic words flowing easily from his tongue.

He could never be that man.

Love made men weak and turned some into raving madmen. Love brought men to their knees.

He was prepared to give Mina anything she wanted, but all of him? To be utterly defenseless and keep none of the walls he’d built around himself—to protect himself—intact?

That he wouldn’t do for anyone.