Page 110 of Noble Scoundrel

“A marriage between a duke’s daughter and a villain of the East End sure as hell is.”

“Says who?”

“The whole fucking world.”

“I don’t care about the rest of the world,” she retorted. Then she arched a brow. “If you don’t want to marry me, Mason, just say so.”

He growled again and his arms tightened involuntarily.

She smiled.

“That’s what I thought.” Framing his face in her hands, she looked confidently into his eyes. “You’ve been fighting all your life. Fighting to survive. To protect. To claim your place in the world. You don’t have to fight this, Mason.” She smiled. “Just let it happen.”

Emotion churned inside him. He couldn’t respond. It didn’t seem real.

“You should know right now that I’m not going to give up on this. On you.”

Giving in to the need inside him, Mason closed his eyes and hauled her into a tighter embrace as he tucked his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder. “I fucking hope not,” he muttered thickly.

After a moment, he lifted his head to look down at her.

Damn, she was stunning. Passionate and prideful and beautifully fierce.

He shook his head slowly as he asked with his heart in his throat, “You really want to marry me?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“And you love me?”

“I do.”

“Because once I make you my wife, that’s it. You’re mine forever.”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled.

And then the words were suddenly there. Pressing insistently against his lips. Forceful. Undeniable. And true. “I love you.”

Though she’d already declared as much, the pleasure in her smile and in the depths of her eyes when he said it himself told him he’d be saying those words a lot.