Passionately Yours (Hellions of High Street 3)

“Caro, we can’t stay here any longer.”

“Mmmm, I suppose you are right.” She brushed her lips to the tip of his chin—a fleeting touch that made his heart thump against his ribs—before starting to sit up.

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“A moment,” he responded, catching hold of her wrist. “There’s something I have to say first.”

She went very still.

Alec drew a breath, trying to loosen the terrible tightness in his chest. He felt like the worst sort of bounder, forcing her hand. But there was no time for wrapping the stark truth in silk ribbons.

“This should be done with flowery words and sparkling champagne,” he went on awkwardly. “But I’m afraid you will have to settle for my plain, rough-cut words at this moment.”

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, her tone turning wary.

For an instant, his voice seemed stuck in his throat. “However unpolished, a proposal of marriage.”

He heard her inhale a long, measured breath. “You are asking me to marry you?”

Alec wished he could see her face. Her voice, normally so expressive, was toneless and impossible to read.

“Actually, it’s not really a request,” he said softly. An unseen fist seemed to squeeze all the warmth from the air. “We both know we have no choice, considering what has just occurred between us.”

A sliver of ice skated down her spine, and all at once Caro felt cold all over. “Of course we have a choice,” she replied.

“There are consequences for giving way to passion, and we must accept them.” Alec shifted on the rumpled blanket. “But think on it. We have much in common.”

Was he trying to convince her or himself?

“We can be comfortable in a marriage,” Alec went on. “We share mutual interests, mutual sensibilities.” A pause. “I believe that we can learn to rub along without setting off sparks.”

Fire—oh, but she wanted the fire!

She wanted the flames that had burned within him as he had joined his body with hers.

“You speak of comfort and common interests,” replied Caro slowly. “But what about love?”

His hold on her wrist twisted and then tightened. For several long moments there was silence. To Caro they seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

“I—I made a grave mistake before,” he said haltingly.

“And you fear you are making another one?”

He didn’t answer right away, which told her all she needed to know. “Well, I want to be more than someone’s mistake.” I want to be loved. “I want sparks in my marriage,” she added hotly. “I want poetry, I want passion.”

He flinched.

“I know I am asking too much of you, sir,” said Caro in a near whisper. It hurt to admit it. “But I don’t want to settle for less. So I shall not accept your proposal.”

“Honor—” began Alec.

“Honor be damned,” she exclaimed. “Among the many eccentric ideas my father taught me was that each individual must form his—or her—own sense of honor, no matter what Society dictates.” Pain lanced through her chest. “I shall follow my own heart, not some silly strictures that will only make us both miserable.”

She felt Alec look away, even though she couldn’t see his face. “You deserve to be happy,” was all he said.

But I won’t be—not without you.

“Then we have an understanding?” she asked.