To Romance a Charming Rogue (Courtship Wars)

“He is hardly a fortune hunter. He has three palaces-indeed, his own kingdom.”

“Anyone who spends his wealth the way Lazzara does would welcome an heiress bride to help fund his penchant for high living.” When Eleanor started to object, Damon raised his hand. “But regardless of his motives for courting you, I have to question your choice. You would be bored to flinders with a milquetoast. You need a man who will challenge you as much as you challenge him.”

Eleanor bit back a retort, finding too much delight in her exchange of words with Damon. But then, he had always been the most enlivening, stimulating, provocative man of her acquaintance. Even when they argued, she felt a delicious tingle at the challenge of matching wits with him.

“Prince Lazzara is most certainly not a milquetoast,” Eleanor finally protested.

“Perhaps. But I know his sort-a charming pleasure-seeker with little genuine substance. In his country, Lazzara is known for breaking hearts. I don't want to see him hurt you, Elle.”

“Isn't that like the pot calling the kettle black?” she asked with exaggerated sweetness.

Damon's wince this time looked real, but he continued with an edge of determination in his voice. “Your prince not only is royalty but he was raised in a country where women are shown little respect and rarely seen as equals to men. Lazzara demands subservience and submission from his subjects now. I'd wager that once the courtship is over, he will expect you to do his bidding and obey his every word. You are hardly a biddable female, Elle.”

Eleanor hesitated, knowing Damon had a point. Currently Prince Lazzara was all charm and affability with her, although she knew he could be forceful in getting his way with his servants and even his elder relative, Signor Vecchi.

“If you expect,” Damon said, “to lead the prince around by his nose after the wedding, as you do all your swains now, you will likely have a rude awakening.”

“I do no such thing,” she objected. “I certainly

never led you.”

“Which is a prime reason you enjoyed our court ship, because you were not able to rule me.”

That much was true, Eleanor had to agree, even though she was not about to tell him so.

“You would not enjoy being ruled, Elle,” Damon observed. “And you are in for a great mismatch if you wed Lazzara.”

Eleanor grimaced, knowing he was calling her Elle just to rile her. “I am not interested in your opinion in the least, Lord Wrexham.”

He sighed. “Why do you insist on addressing me by my title, as if we are strangers?”

“We are strangers now.”

“I beg to differ, love. We still know each other very well.”

Eleanor had difficultly controlling her response to Damon's smile. That slow, lazy smile was his most potent weapon. “You are wrong, my lord. I don't know you at all. It seems I never did.”

“You don't know Lazzara either.”

“But what I do know of him, I like very much. He is extremely considerate and yes, charming. What is more, he has the Italian flair for romance, which is a strong point in his favor.”

“Because you want a passionate lover for your husband.”

Indeed, she wanted a man who made her feverish, who made her burn, the way Damon had once done. “Perhaps, but I also want more than passion. I have not given up on finding love in marriage.”

Damon's gaze turned shadowed. “So you believe your Romeo is passionate. Has he kissed you yet?”

Eleanor's chin lifted. “I beg your pardon? That is hardly any of your concern.”

“He must not have,” Damon said with satisfaction, “or you would not be so prickly in coming to his defense.”

“I am not prickly!”

“Do you intend to dunk him in a fountain if he dares to take liberties with you?”

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor tried to regain control of their conversation. “I have no intention of dunking him. He is a prince, after all. And I doubt he would take liberties in any case. He is a gentleman.”

“Meaning that I am not?”