Page 3 of The Moonstone Marquess
She turned and strode to her horse, but he followed and stopped her before she could climb back up. He drew her up against him once more. “Phoebe—”
“That’s Lady Phoebe to you.”
Did her eyes always blaze so magnificently?
She opened her mouth to lambaste him again.
“Enough,” he said, and kissed her with all his heart.
For this, he was rewarded with a punch in the nose.
Her hand was little and his hide was thick, so he barely felt a thing. She probably did more damage to herself than him.
He kissed her again, crushing his lips to hers and knowing he was utterly lost to this girl with aquamarine eyes and a honey-sweet mouth.
She punched him again. “What is wrong with you? Have you no shame? How could you… Why did you… Well, what do you have to say for yourself, you unmitigated clot?”
“Two words.”
She looked up at him, utterly befuddled. “Two words?”
“Yes.” The clouds had passed and the sun shone down on her once more. By heaven, she was an angel, and he was not letting her go.
“Pray tell. What might those two words be?”
He wanted to kiss her again, was not nearly done exploring that soft mouth of hers. But she was impatient for his answer, and he did not want her launching into another diatribe about his failings.
He knew what he was and what he needed…her. “Marry me.”
Chapter Two
“Marry you?” LadyPhoebe Killigrew was certain the Marquess of Burness had completely taken leave of his senses. “Marryyou?”
“That’s what I said.”
Of all the nonsense!
She had expected something stupid to spill from his lips, but never anything like this.
She wanted to hit him again, but refrained, since she was not a violent person and had never hit anyone in her life until just now, when she had struck him twice. Twice! And they had only just met. “I would sooner marry my horse.”
He must have thought her response amusing, for he cast her yet another surprisingly appealing smile. “Seems I have a bit of work to do to change your mind.”
Was he serious?
Were he not so dissolute, she might have considered allowing a courtship. He was quite handsome, of this there was no doubt. Dark hair, striking blue eyes that were a bit bloodshot at the moment. He was big and muscled, and although he did reek of brandy, she had exaggerated the truth when accusing him of smelling foul. Beneath that odor of brandy was an appealingly clean scent of musk and maleness.
She was never going to admit such a thing to him. “Lord Burness, I do not appreciate your jest.”
“It is no jest.”
How long was he going to continue this farce? “If that is so, then do not waste your time hoping to gain my favor. I am never going to marry you. The sun is more likely to disappear from the sky than I would ever exchange vows with you. My only concern at the moment is your nieces. Do you think you can pull yourself together long enough not to frighten them?”
“They are not afraid of me,” he said with a light frown. “They know I love them.”
She shook her head and sighed. “You have an odd way of showing it.”
“You have not seen me around them. I’ll be at your home at four o’clock and prove it to you.”
