A Rogues Proposal (Cynster 4)

Flick waited, and wondered, with what little wit she still possessed. She felt so happy, so reassured. So wanted. Deeply, sincerely, uncontrollably wanted.

His eyes held hers-she both sensed and felt him steeling himself.

"What will it take to make you say yes?" After a moment, he clarified, "What do you want from me? What do you want me to do?"

She wanted his heart-she wanted him to lay it at her feet. Flick heard the words in her head, which was suddenly spinning much too fast. She dragged in a too-shallow breath-

"Just tell me." His voice was so low she felt it more than heard it.

Eyes wide, she held his darkened gaze and dazedly considered it-considered asking the one question she'd told herself she never could. Searching his face, she saw his strength, and a new, more visible devotion, both unswerving, unfailing-there for her to lean on. Neither surprised her. What did-what made her breath catch and her head swim-was the raw hunger in his eyes, in the harsh planes of his face; for the first time, she saw his naked need. She shivered, deeply thrilled by the sight, shaken by its consequence.

He'd asked for the price of her heart. She would have to tell him it was his.

Drawing in a deep breath, she steadied, calmed. This was, without doubt, the highest fence she'd ever faced. She felt his arms about her, felt his heart thudding against her breast. Her eyes locked with his, so dark in the night, she drew in a last breath, and threw her heart over. "I need to know-to believe-that you love me." Her lungs seized; she forced in a quick breath. "If you love me, I'll say yes."

His expression didn't change. He looked at her for a long, long moment. She could feel her heart thudding in her throat. Then he shifted, one arm sliding more completely around her, holding her locked against him; with the other, he lifted her hand from his shoulder. He held her gaze, then carried her hand to his lips.

His kiss seared the back of her hand.

"I could say 'I love you'-and I do." Raising his lids, he met her gaze. "But it's not that simple… not for me. I never wanted a wife." He drew in a breath. "I never wanted to love-not you, not any woman. I never wanted to risk it-never wanted to be forced to find out if I could handle the strain. In my family, loving's not easy-it's not a simple sunny thing that makes one merely happy. Love for us-for me-was always going to be dramatic-powerful, unsettling-an ungovernable force. A force that controls me, not the other way about. I knew I wouldn't like it-" His eyes met hers. "And I don't. But… it isn't, it appears, something I have a choice about."

His lips twisted. "I thought I was safe-that I had defenses in place, strong and inviolable, far too steely for any mere woman to break through. And none did, not for years." He paused. "Until you.

"I can't remember inviting you in, or ever opening the gates-I just turned around one day and you were there-a part of me." He hesitated, studying her eyes, then his face hardened, his voice deepened. "I don't know what will convince you, but I won't ever let you go. You're mine-the only woman I could ever imagine marrying. You can share my life. You know a hock from a fetlock-you know as much about riding as I do. You can be a partner in my enterprises, not a distant spectator standing at the periphery. You'll stand at the center of it all, by my side.

"And I'll want you there always, by my side-in the ton as much as at Newmarket. I want to build a life with you-to have a home with you, to have children with you."

He paused; Flick held her breath, very conscious of the steely tension investing his muscles, of the brutal strength holding her gently trapped, of the power in his voice, in his eyes, so totally focused on her.

Releasing her hand, he tucked one stray curl back behind her ear. "That's what you mean to me." The words were gravelly, raw, compelling. "You're the one I want-now and forever. The only future I want lies with you."

Demon drew breath and looked into her eyes, and saw tears welling bright against the blue. He inwardly quaked, unsure if they meant victory or defeat. He swallowed and asked, his voice barely audible, "Have I convinced you?"

She searched his face, then smiled-glowed. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

His hands, one at her waist, the other at her hip, tightened-he forced them to relax. Disappointment welled, but… she seemed happy. Deeply content. If anything, her glow had reached new heights, new depths.

He studied her eyes, hard to read in the silvery light, then forced himself to nod. "I'll call on you midmorning." He raised her hand and pressed an ardent kiss to her palm. If he had to wait, that was all he dared do.

Steeling himself, he eased his arms from her.

Instantly, she clutched-her eyes flew wide.

"No! Don't go!" Flick locked her eyes on his. "I want you with me tonight."

She didn't want to tell him her decision in words-she could never match his exposition. She intended telling him in a more direct fashion-in a manner she was sure he'd understand. Words could wait until tomorrow. Tonight…

He grimaced lightly. "Flick, sweetheart, much as I want you, this is my parents' house, and-"

She cut him off with a kiss-the most potent one she could muster.

Long before she stopped for breath, Demon had forgotten the point of his argument-he'd lost the reins of their carriage long ago. The only point he was capable of contemplating lay at the juncture of her thighs, but… deeply ingrained honor forced him to pull back, catch his b

reath-

She touched him.

Inexpertly, not firmly enough-but she was learning. He shuddered, groaned-and caught her hand. "Flick-!"