He responded with a laugh so poisoned with cynicism, it made her belly twist with pity. “Which is why you’re floundering to find a way to say no.”
She kissed him hard before she released him. “You’re a fool, Jonas Merrick.”
His jaw firmed and his expression didn’t lighten. Her stomach sank as she realized he remained convinced of his essential unworthiness. “Does that mean you’ll stay? I doubt it.”
“Jonas, I always swore I’d never marry,” she said gravely.
He reared up from the pillows and curled one powerful hand behind her head, his fingers tangling in her disheveled hair. “I’m not William.”
“Of course not. But I’d still be your property.”
His hand tightened at her nape. “I’ll sign anything. Give you money, rights, land, houses.”
“I’d still be your wife.”
“That’s not a death sentence.”
“I’m sorry,” she said helplessly. “If I were to marry any man, it would be you. I don’t expect you to understand.”
She hardly believed that the sarcastic, disdainful scoundrel she’d met a week ago would forsake pride to propose. She hardly believed that in spite of everything she knew about marriage and everything still to be resolved between them, she considered his offer.
“Do you really think life alone is better than life as my wife?” He released her, his silvery gaze unwavering. “You speak of what you’ll lose if you marry. What about what you’ll gain? Don’t you want children? Wouldn’t you like someone to turn to when you’re troubled? Can you live without a man’s touch?”
The question wasn’t whether she could live without a man’s touch but whether she could live without Jonas’s touch. She extended her hand in a silent plea for forgiveness. Even as part of her wondered if she’d be so very wrong to say yes. “Jonas, I don’t make my choice lightly.”
He ignored her gesture and desolation edged his voice. “I hardly blame you for refusing. I’m no great prize, after all.”
Her lips tightened. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
He looked startled. “It’s true.”
“You’re the cleverest man I know.” She wondered why she argued when he seemed prepared to accept refusal. Still she persisted. He must see he was remarkable. Her hands fisted against her thighs. “You’re considerate and funny and you’re a lover out of my dreams. Should I develop a taste for luxuries—which I may well do after this week—you’re so plump in the pocket, you wouldn’t notice if I started buying gold-plated underthings.”
His smile was uncertain, nonetheless it was a smile. Her churning misery eased a fraction. “I’d notice anything you did with your undergarments, amore mio.”
She blushed and the urgency faded from her voice. “You underestimate your appeal, Jonas. How long before you talked me into bed? Three days? Four? And I was a woman of unquestionable virtue.”
His smile developed an acerbic tinge. “Careful. At this rate, you’ll consent to be my wife.”
“It’s been a week.” If only he knew how near she verged to relenting and consigning everything else to the devil. But even now when she longed to fling herself into Jonas’s arms and dare the world to snatch her away, she couldn’t forget William’s last assault on Roberta or her fear when she heard that he became increasingly divorced from reality. First she must settle Roberta somewhere safe, then she’d tell Jonas about his birth. Only after that could she decide whether her future lay with him.
“I make my mind up quickly, bella.” He paused. “I suspect you do, too.”
“You hardly know me.”
“Don’t be a silly widgeon, Sidonie.” This time his smile held no shadows, only endless tenderness. For one crazy moment, she stared into his intense features and every obstacle dissolved like mist in the sun. A lifetime with this fascinating man seemed promise of heaven.
“I’m flattered by your offer, Jonas. But I… can’t.”
The glow seeped from his eyes and he shifted to the edge of the bed. “That’s your prerogative.”
He sounded cold, composed. Beneath the chill, she heard turbulent grief. He shouldn’t sound like that. Not after only a week. She reached for him but stopped short of making contact. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. Once his indifference might have convinced. After all, the man she’d met a week ago had seemed nothing but power games and spite. Now she knew better.
“You made no promises.”
Except she had. With her heart. With her body. With a thousand sighs of surrender. Did she underestimate him? Was it possible that if she admitted what she knew, Jonas would devise some solution to Roberta’s dilemma? He was daring and resourceful and his fortune gave him a power in the world she couldn’t hope to match.