Page 87 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

It was late, and yet no one wanted the night to end. And least of all James.

He danced with her and barely left her side to attend to his duties as a host. He had to endure Richard’s glances, Selina’s teasing, and, most of all, Stephen’s cold hard looks. But he had an ally in Elizabeth.

Not that he cared. He wouldn’t leave Diana’s side even if an army dragged him away.

And then an opportunity presented itself. They were left alone, just the two of them. James didn’t say anything. He just took her by the hand and led her to the dark corridors of his home. His grip was firm yet gentle as if he feared she would pull away. His heart soared when she followed him without asking anything.

He stopped in front of an ornated door and opened it before leading her inside. Diana looked around the soft-lighted room, and James watched as she took it in. The air smelled of polished wood and parchment, of ink and something faintly new.

“A library?” she asked, walking further into the room.

James let her explore, watching as she let her fingers touch the books on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. He chuckled softly when she stopped at a particular tome and let out a cry of excitement. She clapped every time she saw a beautiful copy.

“Where did you find this book?” Diana asked as she took a volume out of a shelf. “I have been looking for it for ages.”

“I know. You told me.”

Diana’s eyes snapped to his. James remained absolutely calm.

Diana frowned and looked around once more at the books on the shelves. Books she loved. Books she wanted to read. She furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Look at the shelf to your left.”

Diana did and let out a little scream, her hands over her mouth.

“Notthisedition ofMeditations.” She took the book out. “This is the edition with Professor Netherton’s notes!”

“The very one.”

She turned the book over in her hands, her fingers tracing the worn leather. Her breath hitched, the weight of realizationpressing into her chest. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“James?”

“I renovated it just for you, Diana. This library. Just for you.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

Her chest heaved, her eyes widened. Her lips parted slightly to let out a soft sigh of surprise.

James stalked toward her. Deliberate, devastatingly slow. Looking into her eyes, drowning in them. He was so close to her, his eyes roaming over her face, her eyes, her lips. His precious wallflower.

He wanted to touch her. God help him, he wanted to gather her into his arms, bury his face in her soft neck, and never let go. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“It’s yours, Diana,” he said.

“What…?”

James came impossibly close, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. He was barely controlling himself.

His eyes softened, and he smiled. “It’s yours if you will have it.” He leaned in. “If you will have me.”

Diana’s jaw dropped, her fingers digging into the leather of the book she was still somehow holding. She tilted her head as if questioning reality itself, and her quick breaths said that she was overwhelmed with emotions.

James saw them all. Disbelief, fear, and… warmth. Hope.

He had to do more than offer her a book. His lips curled into something between a smile and a grimace, as if he were pained by what he was about to say.

“I have never been good, Diana. I always did as I pleased, taken what I pleased, consequences be damned.” His hand slid down her hair, his fingertips brushing the line of her jaw before dropping to his side, curling into a fist.“But for you, I want to do better.Bebetter.”

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