A panicky laugh worked its way up her throat and stuck there. What will you do? With such harsh precision, there would never be the worry over either of their hearts being engaged. Gabriel, a man who made decisions for others and commanded as though he was born to it, a man who did not want issues or really a wife, would be safe in ways that mattered. Yet, for his devotion and his goodness to his entire family, and now her, he deserved more. “I cannot marry you,” she said softly. “Even for my school. You will someday want a woman for your wife who is more than a companion for your sister, a woman you d-desire.” His eyes grew more shuttered and an increasingly familiar heat burned her cheeks under his veiled scrutiny.

He shot a hand out and folded it gently about her neck. She stiffened at the unexpectedness of his touch. Shivers radiated at the point of contact and warmth spiraled through her as he angled her closer. Her lashes fluttered as he dipped his face close. His breath fanned her lips. “Is that what you believe? That I do not desire you?”

All she need do was reach up on tiptoe and their lips would touch. A little moan stuck in her throat. “I—”

“Surely, you know the effect you have upon me.” Those last few words, spoken in that husky, powerful baritone cascaded over her senses and washed away reason.

“Then why?” she managed when she trusted herself to speak. Except the words came out garbled and thick.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Why will I not have children with you?”

Those words conjured an image of she and Gabriel locked in an embrace, bound by marriage, and suddenly that binding did not seem so very unappealing. She wet her lips and told her throat to bob up and down.

A slow, seductive grin pulled at the corners of his lips. “I do not want the responsibility that comes with a wife or family, Jane,” he said and then he let his hand fall to his side.

Her skin went cool at the sudden loss of his touch and she mourned the absence of his caress. “But you will have a wife,” she reminded him, infusing as much strength as she could into those handful of words. She’d long ago sneered at any future that involved a gentleman in it and therefore, by all intents and purposes, should be of like mind in terms of a cold, empty union      , if there must be any marriage at all.

Gabriel touched a finger to her lips and they parted as her belly stirred with a need for him. “Ah, yes, but you will have your school.”

Her school. She blinked back the haze of desire he’d cast over her eyes and with an almost agonized pain at the loss of his body’s nearness, she drew back and retreated. Yes. Her school. The beacon of hope she’d had all these years. The thought that had sustained her. Now, it was within her reach.

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And yet, she wanted more.

Jane folded her arms at her chest. What choice did she have? The funds settled upon her by the duke would be lost if she did not do this thing. Yet, still…she hesitated.

Don’t be a ninny. You will have everything. And more, she would, if not have Gabriel’s affection or warmth, be a member of the Edgerton family. That was a heady thought, indeed. She drew in a breath and turned back to face him. “Very well,” she said and stuck out her hand.

He eyed it a moment, as though he’d never before been presented with a lady’s fingers. “You shall have a temporary hostess.” Explaining that she knew nothing in terms of being a hostess or even the most rudimentary aspects of balls and soirees and such would likely only convince him of the madness in his offer. When he still did not accept her extended fingers, Jane grabbed his hand and gripped his palm, forcing a shake. “And I shall have my school.”

Gabriel folded his hands about hers and she gasped. Would she ever grow immune to the heat of his touch? Hands weren’t supposed to feel like his. They weren’t. They were functional and used for all manner of mundane activities. So why did his fingers leave her with this breathless longing? He raised her knuckles to his lips and dropped a kiss upon the top of her naked hand. “It is settled.”

It is settled. Never were there words less romantic or heartfelt than those. Then, why should there be? He’d been clear in his aspirations for her as his wife and she…well, she’d long ago sworn to never care for, or about, a nobleman.




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