Page 51 of The Time for Love
She stared at him. “I have to think?”
He clenched his jaw against the temptation to simply kiss her again and be damned. “Unless I miss my guess, this would be your first time with a man?”
She stiffened slightly, then her chin tipped up. “One has to start sometime, and in case you haven’t realized, I am twenty-eight. Even my grandmother would probably approve.”
“I seriously doubt that,” he muttered. Voice strengthening, determined to cling to his purpose, he went on, “Regardless, between you and me, there’s more to it than just a night of passion.”
Her gaze grew faintly wary. “There is?”
He nodded as definitely as he could. “If we go on from here and fall into bed together, then as far as I’m concerned, that will be the equivalent of you accepting my offer of marriage.”
She stared at him, blinked, then stared again. “I’m sure you didn’t say that to all the ladies who came before.”
He could see nascent anger in the aqua depths of her eyes and realized that would help his cause. “Obviously not.”
“So why me?”
He clung to his purpose. “That—they—were different. You are you, I am me, and as far as I’m concerned, that puts any liaison between us on a completely different footing.”
She wasn’t convinced. She narrowed her eyes. “Is this because I’m my grandmother’s granddaughter?”
He paused, then admitted, “Actually, that hadn’t featured in my reasoning.”
Not that he was all that clear on what his “reasoning” was; all he knew was that in the instant he’d laid eyes on her, some fundamental part of him had been ineradicably convinced that she was the wife he hadn’t known he was looking for.
That fundamental part of him was, ultimately, dominant; in the end, that inner core defined him and dictated all he did, at least when it came to anything important, and he knew beyond question that she was critical to his future in oh-so-many ways.
Thinking of her grandmother, he added, “Now you mention it, however, being your grandmother’s granddaughter is probably a contributory element.”
Her eyes only grew narrower. “Is this sudden decision to marry me your way of gaining control of the steelworks so you can complete your portfolio of steel industries? Is this”—she waved one hand between them—“an attempt to provoke uncontrollable lust and use it to persuade me to marry you?”
He frowned. “No.” But he could see why she’d leapt to that conclusion. He gritted his teeth and informed her, “And for your information, my decision regarding you is anything but sudden. I realized I wanted to marry you within ten minutes of meeting you.”
Her eyes widened, and she tipped her head, studying him as if seeing him for the first time.
Thinking of the steelworks, he gave a short laugh. “Besides, while I definitely want to acquire the steelworks, it’s obvious that you and your talents need to be a part of the deal and willingly, too. So no. Wanting to marry you isn’t a roundabout strategy to gain control of your business.”
He searched her face, taking in the calculation in her eyes, then huffed. “And you’re not so lacking in self-confidence that you truly believed that.”
After a second, her lips quirked wryly. “Still, the question had to be asked.”
Sophy paused, then sighed. “And you’re right, damn it. I haven’t thought through the potential ramifications.” She hauled in a deeper breath and fixed her eyes on his. He’d been honest with her… “To be perfectly truthful, I hadn’t thought beyond the next ten minutes.”
His black brows flew. “Tenminutes? Only ten?”
She frowned. “Don’t tease. Obviously, I have no idea how long such matters take.” She primmed her lips, then parted them to say, “But obviously, I’m not going to gain any experience of that tonight.” She looked at him. “Am I?”
A thread of hope—of desperate desire—thrummed within her, hovering as she watched his jaw clench. But while she sensed he was battling his own inclinations, the muscles in his jaw set like iron, and he confirmed, “Nothing beyond a kiss or two is going to happenuntilyou’ve thought things through—considered all the ramifications—and have made up your mind to marry me.” His voice had lowered, the tone deep but also dogged. Determination shone in his eyes and etched his face. “There is no other way—not for us.”
She held his gaze. Anyone in her social circle—Julia, for certain—would be thrilled with that declaration and his obvious battle to hold to his line. In their terms, he was being “honorable” and was intent on being so despite…
Despite the temptation I pose.
That thought—that fact—acted like a balm to her questioning soul, to the uncertain virgin locked inside her.
She drew in a breath; her pulse was still pounding in her veins, an insistent tattoo, urging her to push him, to argue and seize… She forced herself to take a step back.
His arms—those warm, steely bands that had seized her, held her, surrounded, and supported her—fell away.
