By the time Nicholas entered the drawing room, Claire had grown testy with impatience. Where have you been? she wanted to snap. She’d heard him arrive ages ago and had been waiting with growing anxiety as each second passed.

She was nervous beyond all measure. This conversation could determine her future more surely than anything else had up until this point.

Her stomach refused to obey her commands to settle itself and now she pressed a hand to her belly as if that might calm it. Her body seemed to be acting unruly ever since she’d made her decision to confront him with the kind of brutal honesty she expected from this marriage.

Honesty was what she wanted so she needed to give it first. Still, knowing all that did little to ease her churning stomach as Nicholas lifted her hand to kiss it.

That set off a new flurry of sensations, none of which were unpleasant. They were overwhelming and oddly familiar after weeks of this sort of flirtation. Her heart raced as a fever seemed to grip her, making rational thought that much more difficult.

Not for the first time since deciding upon this course of action, Claire had the unsettling sensation that her mind, body, and heart were in the midst of a war.

It was uncertain who was winning.

At this particular moment, her body was in the lead as his closeness made it difficult to breathe, let alone form rational thoughts. He looked too handsome for his own good, as always, but she caught something in his gaze she’d never seen before.

It was something like…uncertainty.

Was it possible he was growing weary of this farce just as she was? Perhaps he was ready to stop pretending that this was anything more than a forced match. Maybe it was the perfect timing to have the sort of honest, upfront conversation she had planned.

She caught that flicker of uncertainty again and this time her heart halted its work altogether as a new possibility occurred to her.

Perhaps he had already grown tired of her.

“Claire,” he said as she led them toward the seating area. “You look lovely as always.”

She ducked her head to hide her blush, another one of her body’s silly, unwanted responses to Nicholas and his flattery.

She barely managed to keep her head as she poured tea and made the appropriate responses to his idle chatter regarding the weather. Once they were both seated with tea in hand, she turned toward Georgie, who was pretending to busy herself with needlepoint in the corner.

With one short nod, Georgie hurried into action. A subtle family they were not. “Oh, would you look at that?” her sister declared far too loudly as she held up her work. “It seems I’ve run out of thread. How silly of me.” She looked to Nicholas. “Will you excuse me a moment? I will be back shortly.”

Georgie, the chaperone of a mother’s worst nightmares, scurried out the door without so much as a backward glance.

Nicholas’s lips were curved up in a small smile as he turned back to face her. “What was all that about?”

Drat. She hadn’t even begun her speech and she could already feel heat creeping into her cheeks as she set down her tea and licked her lips. “There is something I wished to discuss with you,” she said. “In private.”

At his silence she looked up and caught him watching her closely, his gaze guarded for the first time since she’d met him all those years ago. “I see.”

She doubted he did see, but she didn’t argue the point. “I have a…a…proposition for you.”

His stare cut into her, making her speech falter despite her preparation.

“A proposition?” His voice held a familiar note of teasing but that steady look in his eyes didn’t change. He looked so deeply it was as though he could see straight through her. It was unnerving. Unsettling. It nearly made her change her course.

But their marriage was the next day and this conversation needed to happen now, for her peace of mind if nothing else. She cleared her throat. “Yes, a proposition.” She made a show of arranging her skirts, her eyes on the material as she started. “I know of your reputation with women and—”

“Claire, I do not—” he started, but she shook her head.

“Please, Nicholas.” She finally lifted her gaze to meet his. Maybe it was that look, or maybe it was the use of his given name, which she rarely addressed him by. Whatever it was, he clamped his mouth shut and nodded for her to continue.

“You are aware to some extent, I am sure, of my father’s scandals.”

He nodded again, a question forming in his eyes. He no doubt wondered where this was leading.

“While I appreciate the kindness you have shown me this week with your attentions and your flattery, I would prefer that we have a frank discussion about how this marriage will be,” she said, the words she’d rehearsed coming out quicker now. “I think it would be best if we come to an agreement now so there are no surprises after we marry.”

His stare never wavered. “An agreement,” he repeated.

She gave a short nod. “I would like a family,” she said quickly. “Children. Multiple children, preferably.”

He gave her a small, genuine smile that made her heart leap in response. “I’m glad to hear it. I’d like children as well.”

She nodded. Good. This was good. They were in agreement. Now came the hard part. She shifted her skirts again, her fingers twisting the fabric as discomfort made speech next to impossible. Heavens, nothing in life had ever prepared her for a conversation like this one. “I’d ask that you refrain from any extramarital affairs until such a time as we have formed a family of our own.”

She looked away from his all-seeing eyes, which had widened in surprise. She couldn’t be distracted by his shock if she were to finish. “Once we have our family, then I would be happy to live separately in the country with our children and I will not question whatever life you choose to lead.”

After a brief silence, he spoke, though she couldn’t bring herself to look up immediately. “You want to live separately.”

His voice sounded hollow, and only then did she drag her gaze up to see him staring at her in horror.

“I do not mean to offend. I merely believe it would be practical to speak of our expectations. Surely a man such as yourself would prefer to live unshackled and unrestrained.”

“Unshackled…” He shook his head as he repeated her word.

Claire hurried on. “It would be preferable if you did not have children outside of marriage, but were it to…occur…” Her voice faltered at his stricken look. “Were it to occur, I ask that you take responsibility and let me know so I can raise the child as our own.”

He was shaking his head but she continued. As one whose dearest siblings were illegitimate, this was a point she would not concede. “Obviously that is not the best option, but I would not turn any child away.”

The silence that followed was heavy with tension. His face was unreadable and his typically expressive eyes were blank. Her stomach twisted and turned in response as she waited for him to say something. Anything.

She waited for him to agree. After all, this type of arrangement suited them both, did it not? Surely this sort of freedom was what every rake desired of a wife. And it was what she wanted, too…wasn’t it?

Yes. Of course it was. This would guarantee her future freedom—a life unburdened by the constraints of a husband. And it would ensure that until that time, she was free to do as she pleased, this thing between them would be clear and defined. That was what she wanted.

Wasn’t it?

A voice of doubt niggled at the back of her mind as her gaze tangled with his. His warm brown eyes hadn’t left hers, but his thoughts were unreadable. All she could see was his warmth and the sudden absence of laughter and compassion she’d grown used to. Her words had done that. They’d dimmed his joy and his teasing mirth and replaced it with a cold distance. Which was what she wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Her heart squeezed in her chest, the sudden pain unable to be ignored.

Did she truly want a cold, businesslike arrangement with this man?

The question made her panic, her heart picking up its pace as she awaited his response. Fear gripped her as she realized for the first time that perhaps she had been wrong. Maybe she did want more, but was just too afraid to let herself hope for something so intangible and immaterial.

Now, as the tense silence grew, she realized that she didn’t know how she wanted him to respond. A war waged within her, a fierce battle between her mind and her heart.

A businesslike agreement would be reasonable, rational…safe.

Safe for whom? Her heart seemed to taunt her as it ached for something more, something meaningful and real. A connection and emotions, the kind of fairytale love she’d never seen as a child and had never expected to experience.

If he agreed to this arrangement, she would never have the chance to experience it. She would kill off that possibility before they even had a chance. Maybe she already had killed that possibility merely by suggesting it.

But perhaps it was better to kill it now. Her heart would be safe.

Safe and alone.

She had worked herself into a state of such confusion and agony that when he finally shifted and cleared his throat, it took all her strength to keep from cutting him off. No! Forget what I said. I don’t want that, not really.

But she couldn’t say that because she wasn’t certain what she wanted. Perhaps these strange longings would pass. Perhaps her brain knew best and she should follow logic and reason.

Oh, she needed time. She needed space. But those were two things she could not have, not with a wedding set to occur the very next day.

He leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees. “First, let me say that I appreciate your honest forthrightness regarding how you see this marriage unfolding.”

His tone was all propriety and elegance, devoid of emotion. She noted the rigid way he held himself and the stiff, formal tone, so at odds with his usual easy, effortless charm. She shifted in her seat, dreading what was to come. Perhaps he’d realized a good bargain when he heard one. Maybe he was relieved that he could drop all romantic pretenses.

A sob rose up in her throat at that thought, but it was too late now. She had done this. The course had been set.

He stood before her and reached out to help her to her feet. Confused, she did as he bid and left her hand in his when he didn’t let go. They were standing so close she could feel his warmth, but that heat didn’t extend to his eyes, nor his smile. The smirk he wore was one she’d never seen before. It was rueful and sad.

She hated that smile.

“Now let me be clear,” he said. “It seems I have failed in my quest to win your heart, and for that I am immeasurably disappointed.”

His voice was so gruff with emotion it was hard to hear. The urge to weep made her throat close painfully. She wanted to protest but could not. Her mind was still reminding her that this was for the best. She had made a decision about her future and no silly infatuation would distract her.

And surely that was all this was, on his part, at least. And for her part? Was this just a silly infatuation?

Of course it was. Who wouldn’t harbor feelings when a man like Nicholas set himself to flatter and charm her? He was a notorious rake for a reason, after all.

Something hardened in his expression and he tugged her hand until she stumbled forward, tumbling into his arms. When he clutched her to him tightly, her heart threatened to leap from her chest with excitement and wanting.

She could feel the vibration of his low voice as he continued, his gaze never leaving hers. “As you were kind enough to be upfront with your expectations, let me be equally blunt. I want you, Claire Cleveland.”

She gasped, not just at his words but at the fire in his eyes. She saw desire and longing and an emotion so deep and heavy, she had no word for it.

Love, a little voice whispered.

She shook her head slightly to rid herself of that tantalizingly sweet voice. But he misconstrued her gesture.

“Do you not believe me?” Leaning in further, he stopped short just as his lips were to touch hers. She nearly moaned in despair for her body, at least, knew exactly what it wanted.

And it wanted this man. It needed his lips against hers just as it was relishing in the feel of his hard body pressed to hers.

“How can I prove it to you?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper but filled with an urgency that made her tremble in response. “Tell me, how can I make you see that you are the woman I want to marry…the woman I want, in my bed and in my life? You are the woman I want at my side forever, not just until an heir has been sired.”

She blinked up at him, her throat too tight with too many emotions. She could barely breathe let alone speak. His words were physical blows, sneaking past the defenses she’d put in place all those years ago and striking her where she was most vulnerable.

Her heart.

He brought a hand up and touched her cheek, so softly it brought tears to her eyes at the tenderness, in his touch and in his eyes. The way he looked at her made her feel seen in a way she’d never been before. He saw the real Claire Cleveland…and he loved her. He hadn’t said the words yet, but they were there in his gaze. Passionate, beautiful, and absolutely terrifying.

He cupped her cheek in his palm and she parted her lips, certain that he would end this physical tension between them with a kiss. And oh, how she wanted that kiss. She ached for his touch, but she also longed to lose herself in a passionate embrace. One that would wash away the confusion and the heartache and give her sweet satisfaction instead.

But he pulled away with clear regret. “I want to kiss you right now, Claire. I want to hold you and never let go.”

So? She wanted to plead. Why don’t you?

“But I can’t,” he said, swallowing visibly as he ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “I cannot enter into a marriage like that with you, Claire. You were honest with me and I will be honest with you. If we marry, I will never be able to settle for anything less than everything.”

She took a faltering step back at that, feeling his words like a physical blow. He would not accept the arrangement…and she didn’t know if she was joyful and despondent. Her emotions were in such a whirlwind state, and she couldn’t tell up from down.

“If we marry, I would expect you to be my wife in every meaning of the word. I could never settle for less. I would want you to be my partner, my friend, my lover…my heart.”

His words hitched on that last part and her heart clenched in response.

“If,” she repeated, her voice little more than a whisper. She latched on to that one word…a word that made her stomach drop to the floor and her heart scream in agony. He might not marry her. He was backing out, reconsidering at the very least. She was distantly aware that she should be worried about her reputation, about being ruined. But if she were being honest, her potential ruination had nothing to do with her physical pain at that one word.

His gaze was penetrating, his eyes searching hers as if trying to read something there. As if trying to see straight into her heart. Whatever he saw, his own eyes grew shuttered. “I’ve talked to your brother. It seems that Lord Swattle may be amenable to an arrangement.”

She blinked rapidly, trying to keep track of where this was leading. He’d talked to Jed? About Swattle? For a moment she couldn’t even remember who he was. Ah yes, the man who’d set this all in motion with his accusations. That tedious old boor who’d been content to leer and paw at her until her dowry increased.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she swallowed down the sick taste in her mouth as what he was proposing became clear.

He did not want to marry her. He had found an out. She was only dimly aware of his explanation, but she caught enough to get his meaning. The baron had a gambling problem…between his weight in society and Davenport’s they could convince him…her reputation might be tainted but she would have her freedom.

Freedom, that was what it all came back to. It was what she wanted, after all, was it not? And it was what she assumed he desired as well.

But she’d thought they could both have that—together but separate. Everybody a winner. Except that nothing about this felt like winning, not her solution and definitely not his. She’d wanted to put parameters on their relationship, not end it.

But maybe she has asked for too much. Though what he asked seemed like so much more. He was talking all or nothing, there was no middle ground, no safe space where she could keep this relationship without losing her heart.

Her lips felt numb as she mumbled, “I see.”

She’d had to say something as he’d stopped speaking and seemed to be waiting for a response. When her gaze met his she was struck dumb by his intensity.

“Do you, Claire?” His voice was gravelly and raw. For the first time she wondered if he were as overset with emotion as she. Was that possible? But that would mean… That would mean…

“I love you.” His words rang in her ears, silencing the thoughts that had been swirling through her mind and making her entire body hum with something frightening and new. Something she did not want to name. Something so foreign and overwhelming, she didn’t know whether to fight it or embrace it.

“Do you see that, Claire?” He gave her a rueful smile, his eyes tinged with hope and sadness at once. “When you see me do you see a man who loves you or do you see a philandering rake, a reckless gentleman who will hurt you the way your father hurt your mother?”

His words were so accurate, she felt them to her core. That was what she’d seen before. No, that was what she’d feared. And now?

Well, now his words should make no difference. Not really. Didn’t all men lie about being in love to win what they wanted?

Her mind clicked into action then.

That was nonsense. He didn’t have to lie. He had no reason to. There was nothing for him to gain in this situation but marriage to her.

He could have any woman he wanted if marriage was all he sought. Everyone knew what a catch he was. He could have walked away from her at any point and cried off. Even now he was telling her how could end this engagement while still looking like a gentleman and perhaps even keeping her reputation somewhat intact.

And yet he still told her he loved her.

She stared up at him. Her mind didn’t know what to make of it, but her heart…oh, her heart…

Whatever he saw in her expression, it made his gaze fill with infinite tenderness and a sadness that made her want to weep in sympathy.

Who was she fooling? She didn’t want to weep for him, she wanted to weep for herself. Confusion made her waver between joy and despair. He was offering her everything…but everything came at a price that was too high.

He moved his hand so he was clasping her chin as he held her steady and met her gaze. “Hell and damnation, Claire. If you cannot see the truth of my words, then perhaps I can show you.” He gave no further warning before capturing her lips in a kiss that left her reeling.

His kiss told her everything. Filled with passion, his touch was gentle and firm, possessive and unselfish. His lips spoke of love more eloquently than any soliloquy or poem and his tongue showed her how he longed to make her his own.

Where her mind whirled with confusion, her body had no qualms. She eagerly met his kiss, wallowing in the sensual feel of him as well as the sweet bliss of surrendering to the passion of the moment.

The lack of speech and thought were a blessed relief. She might not know what to say or how to feel, but her body knew how to respond with no direction and no questions asked.

If only that were enough.

The sound of a throat clearing in the doorway brought her back to the moment and she pulled back in shock, more at her own loss of her senses than anything else. She cast a look around the room and found Georgie smirking at her as she held up some thread. “You’ll be happy to know I found it.”

What? What was she talking about? Her mind felt fuzzy and confused and her heart…her heart was racing in its attempt to be free. When she looked back at Nicholas his gaze was still steady on her face and he reached up to cup her cheek once more, holding her attention with the gentle touch.

“I’ll need an answer, my love.” His eyes looked pained, almost regretful. “I wish I had more time to try to persuade you, but perhaps it’s for the best. I fear I could spend a lifetime trying to make you see how much you mean to me, but at some point it is no longer about how I feel.” He leaned in closer, his voice close to a whisper. “It is about what you believe.”

She swallowed down the thick feeling, her lips parting to speak. But what to say? She wanted to ease his pain, she wanted to wash away the regret and the pain in his eyes. But how?

She would only be hurting him further if she spoke without thinking. Their futures, their lives rested in her hands and it was not a decision to be made while her mind was whirling and her body trembling with passion.

He backed away slowly. “I’ll be home this evening. Send word if you want to cry off and I will speak to Davenport about forcing the baron’s hand. If I do not hear from you, I will assume that you have given me the benefit of the doubt.”

Drawing her brows together, she gave him a questioning look. Benefit of the doubt?’

He stroked her cheek with his thumb and gave her another sad smile, one that looked haunted rather than rakish. “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me instantly as I have done, but if you marry me, I promise I will do everything in my power to bring you joy and to cherish you as you deserve. It may never be true love on your part, and that I would have to live with. But I believe we could share affection, at the very least, and I—” He hesitated briefly. “I could live with that.” His lips turned down in a frown. “Just do not ask me to treat this marriage as some sort of business contract with an expiration date and an understanding about a future freedom that I’ve never asked for nor wanted. For that I cannot do.”

He turned to leave.

“I’m sorry.” Her words came out as a whisper and though they did not seem sufficient, she hoped he understood what she’d meant. Now that he’d laid his heart bare, she was overcome with shame at what she had suggested. She had painted him with the same brush as her father, though he had never given her reason. Oh he might have a reputation, but she knew better than anyone how flimsy rumor and gossip could be. They rarely, if ever, told the whole story.

His gaze searched her for a moment and then he gave her a little smile. “Do not fret, love. Just think it over and whatever you decide, we will make work. All that matters is that your reputation is not ruined in all of this.”

Before she could say more, he turned and with a short nod to Georgie, walked out. She heard the front door slam closed behind him and the sound felt like a blow. He was gone and now it was up to her to answer the question that would decide her fate.

Could she trust a rake with her heart?