His Grace started a slow step toward her and the tray. Her fingers, still across her stomach, curled into her own flesh.
His voice was a deep rumble dancing across her skin with an intimacy that made her shiver. “I have to confess, I am disappointed to learn that you will marry.”
Her breath caught in her chest and held there. “You’re not actually interested in my hand?”
He paused, his eyes travelling down her body. “Do not misunderstand. As a duke, marriage is inevitable, but I’m not particularly interested in marrying anyone at the moment. I am, however, quite intrigued by the idea of bedding you.”
She fisted her hands into her stomach once more. “Your Grace. That is not—”
“Hear me out,” he replied, easily. “As a widow, it is far more acceptable for you to take a lover. And I would make it worth your while.”
Cassandra stared into the flames of the fire again as her heartbeat rushed in her ears. She didn’t wish to marry. Not really. The first had been a disaster and she’d not lie…his offer was tempting for so many reasons. She knew such a relationship was wrong. The sort that might damn her forever, but she wasn’t certain she could bear another failed attempt at wedlock. Straightening her spine, she decided to hear the duke out. Perhaps his offer would be the best solution to safeguard her in the future.
* * *
Damian watched Mrs. Winterset with an intensity that should have frightened her. It almost frightened him. He hadn’t wanted to be with a woman the way he wanted her for such a long time. Not since Amelia.
A cold shiver ran down his spine at the memory of that viper. Without meaning to, he reached up and touched his cheek, the hard, mangled ridges of his scar reminding him why he needed to set very specific terms with Mrs. Winterset. That was vitally important.
But it rather shocked him that he wanted to make an offer at all. Five years he’d gone without touching a woman and now…like lightning, he was ablaze again.
Damian studied her expressive eyes, which flickered with every emotion as she considered his words. Surprise widened them, fear, then interest made her gaze soften. “How would you make becoming your paramour worth my while?”
He cleared his throat, thinking quickly. “A home, the deed to be signed over to you at the beginning of our term. An allowance while we’re together, and a sum upon our departure.”
She caught her lip between her teeth again, a gesture that he was found very arresting. He pressed his hand to his thigh to keep from swiping his thumb across the supple flesh. Wouldn’t do to scare her off yet. He’d already kissed her without permission. He needed to gain some control over the situation. Over himself.
She looked away, staring out the rain-soaked windows. “What guarantees would I have?”
Satisfaction pumped through his veins. “A contract, of course. One that states all our terms of agreement in writing.”
One of her hands lifted from her stomach, trembling slightly it raised up to her cheek. “How long?”
That question irritated him and his chin pulled back, his mouth settling into a frown. Why did that matter? She’d be well cared for in the present and the future. Besides, something told him he’d need a long time to discover and enjoy all her marvelous assets. “I don’t know.”
She drew in a ragged breath. A shadow passed her face. “I would assume for a home and a life’s sum, it would be for some time. A year? Two?”
What did it matter? “Generally, these things last until the benefactor tires of the arrangement.”
He watched her shoulders slump, her brows drawing together and her mouth tightening. “And what if you’re not satisfied with my…”
She clasped her cheek and the flesh around her fingers turned white. He wanted to snatch them back from her delicate skin. Was the pressure of them painful? He stepped a bit closer, his brow knitting in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be satisfied?”
She tucked her chin into her chest, unable to meet his gaze, but her face had gone from pale to bright red, indicating her embarrassment. Concerned, yet cautious, he reached out and touched her, gently placing his thumb and forefinger under her chin to lift her head until she tilted her face toward his once again.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she pressed her lips tightly together. “I don’t know. I’m not the sort of woman men normally…”
He quirked a small smile. He supposed her admission was true. While incredibly beautiful, her looks erred on the side of sweet rather than sultry, her curves gentler, her temperament soft rather than daring. All of her attributes suited him perfectly. He wasn’t looking for a vixen who wished to taunt and tease him. “I care little for what other men want or like.” Besides, when she was with him, she’d have little time or energy to wonder about other men.
Her lips parted, her eyes widening in surprise before she smiled, a small, sweet smile. “I believe that.”
He slid his fingers down the sweeping column of her neck. Her skin was like silk under the rougher skin of his hands. “What is your answer?”
She shivered, not pulling away but swaying further from his touch. “I need to think. I’m not sure…”
“Are you worried about your potential fiancé?”
She jolted under his hand, her arms wrapping about her waist. “I…” She stepped back then, bumping the table behind her, which held all of the refreshments.