"I’d never thought of you as a potential husband."
"I’d never thought of you as a wife. But once I came to terms with the idea, I thought we had as good a chance as anyone else."
"Except I placed an impossible condition on the match."
"You were afraid."
"Yes." She must have read his horrified expression, because she went on quickly. "Not of you. Or only a little. I was afraid of losing my grip on everything I was. You are rather overwhelming, you know."
"You’re up to my weight."
She raised her chin. "I think I just might be."
"So you’re no longer afraid that my wicked wiles will turn into a cipher?"
His exaggerated description of her fears didn’t spark a smile. "I am still afraid of that. You’re a force of nature, Hamish. But I’m more afraid of going the rest of my life without the consolations of family life. I’m afraid I’ll never know my husband’s tenderness or a child’s love. I’ve had ten long miserable months to admit that I’d painted myself into a corner. I might be safe there, but it’s a barren safety. I’ve had time to wonder how it would feel if you touch me. I must admit I’m…curious."
"In a purely academic sense?"
A soft snort of amusement escaped her. "I doubt purity has much to do with it."
He straightened from his slouch and stared at her. "Do you want me to play the suitor?"
Her lips twitched. "I’ve led a sheltered and scholarly life. I like the idea of a big, handsome Scot wooing me."
He relished that she called him a big, handsome Scot. He liked how she looked. It was encouraging to hear that she liked how he looked, too.
"I could do that," he said slowly, hoping he could control his urges until she said yes.
If she said yes.
Relief flooded her face. "Would you?"
"The prize is worth the winning."
Emily was right about one thing. The future was bleak unless they turned this hastily constructed union into a real marriage.
She frowned. He’d forgotten how expressive her face was. Or perhaps over their long separation, he’d learned how to read her. "If you take another woman into your bed, I won’t remain complacent. I can’t accept a husband who strays, if he’s also the man who uses my body."
He burst out laughing as he stood up. "I believe you made that clear after you arrived – and at that point, I still had leave to take a mistress."
When she blushed, the pink in her cheeks was adorable. "I jumped to conclusions."
"I did answer the door in the middle of the afternoon wearing only a sheet. And you
had no particular reason to trust me."
"That’s still no excuse for turning into a lunatic."
"I love that I can make you jealous. It means that I can make you want me." He paused and spoke from the depths of his heart. "Emily, you’re the woman I want. I wouldn’t invite some substitute into my bed, just because I had an itch to scratch."
Wondering eyes fixed on him. "I like that you want me."
"You didn’t in London."
"I did." She sighed. "And I didn’t. How was I to accept your desire when we fought all the time?"
"I suspect we fought because we were attracted to each other but resisted acknowledging it. At least I was always attracted to you."