Page 65 of Innocent in the Prince's Bed

‘I will take you around the world for our honeymoon,’ Illarion tempted. ‘We’ll furnish this house from our travels. We’ll be gone for years if you want. You can draw and when we come home, we’ll hang your drawings all over the house to remind us of our great adventures.’

He was bargaining with her again. Offering what she wanted in exchange for something he supposedly wanted. What a temptation it was to say yes, to ignore the undercurrents of his proposal. With one small word, she’d have everything she’d ever wanted: adventure, freedom and the passion of Illarion in her bed. Her earlier thought returned. Marriage to Illarion would not be like marriage to Percivale. It was everything she wanted. Almost. Was it everything he wanted?

She was obligated to ask the hard question. ‘Why are you doing this? You said you didn’t want to marry. What has changed your mind?’ A thought came to her that perhaps he felt duty bound to offer for her. She did not want him that way. It would destroy her to be the only one in love. Dove pulled her hands away from his. This would be easier if he weren’t touching her. She tried not to think of the big bed upstairs, or the rose sitting room with the excellent light.

‘It occurs to me that I can give you a way out from Percivale.’

‘You want to save me?’ A noble but not romantic sentiment. And the words hurt. She knew he did not mean to hurt, but they did. ‘I think marriage needs a little more than that to recommend it, don’t you?’ If he made such a sacrifice now, would he hate her for it later? Unless it wasn’t a sacrifice at all. Unless it was something he wanted, too? ‘I’m sorry, Illarion, I don’t think leaping from one forced marriage to another is a very good idea.’ She understood the purpose of last night in vivid clarity. He’d wanted her to see what life would be like with him. He wanted her to consider the possibility, both the good and the bad, before he asked her this. He’d just made her choice so much more difficult. She could no longer choose Percivale by default for lack of no other offer. Illarion would make her choose deliberately. He loved her that much. The realisation was overwhelming. She had to refuse. Didn’t she?

* * *

‘Did you think I would take you to bed and not honour you?’ Was that the sort of man she thought he was? Illarion rose from his knee, slowly in disbelief. She was refusing him? After last night and the night before? It seemed surreal. He had planned everything so carefully, given her no quarter to say no and yet she had, she was. ‘Do you not want me, Dove?’ He was numb with the realisation, but he knew it would hurt like the devil later when the shock was gone.

‘I will not have you sacrifice yourself for me. You will hate me for it, eventually.’

Something akin to anger flashed through him. To hell with that nobility of hers that said others had to come before self. ‘I can save you. I can give you everything you want.’ He reached for her hands again, wanting to touch her, his voice a low growl. ‘I don’t consider marriage to you a sacrifice, Dove.’ The hurt started to surface as an idea flickered. ‘Perhaps you consider marriage to me a sacrifice?’ Was that it? Had she reconsidered after last night? Had she recognised the importance of belonging to society? How that might be at risk if she married him? Had she chosen her family over him? Perhaps she had reassessed what the price of her freedom was worth and decided it was too expensive? Logically, he could understand and even empathise with those choices, but emotionally he could not accept it.

His heart sank at the thought of Dove giving up, of allowing herself to become the very thing she hated: a bird in a gilded cage. ‘Dove,’ he began, wanting to exhort her to fight, to persuade her she didn’t have to settle, but he even as he formed the arguments, he was cognisant of the risk she was facing. Marriage to him might have social repercussions; his title might be paper only, his status resting on London’s benevolence alone. Her parents might cut her off, might disown her. Even so, he wanted to cry out, I am enough, Dove. I can be enough for you.

‘Don’t,’ she cautioned. ‘I am surprised, that’s all, and now you have honeymoons and houses all laid out. Can you at least understand what an about-face this is? That this is a decision not without risk? I need time to think it through.’ She asked quietly, ‘Will you give me that?’

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