“Yes,Mamma?”
“When I next see you, I want to see you smiling. He’s handsome, rich, powerful,andconsiderate.” She gestured to Ethan, indicating that, despite all appearances, she did still realize he was present. “And if you do not love him, you are a fool.”
Twenty-eight
“At least your motherhas good taste,” Ethan said when the door closed behind her.
Francesca slanted him a sideways glance. “You don’t mind her talking about you as if you were a piece of property she was thinking of purchasing?”
“It’s not the first time.” Ethan shrugged as he crossed to Brigham’s desk, resting his hip against it.
Francesca didn’t move. Between the two chairs, she stood rigid as a statue.
“And I’m not marrying her,” he added.
Her head came up at that. “You can’t possibly mean to marry me, either. What new plan have you and my father concocted now?”
“None.” He gave her a quelling look. “Iwillmarry you. Tomorrow.”
“Because my father is forcing you.”
So that was it, he thought. That was the source of her objection.
“No one, not even your father, makes me do anything I don’t want to.”
She nodded, acknowledging the truth of the statement. Her brows wrinkled, and she clasped her hands together. “But then—why?”
“Because I want you.”
Her eyes widened at his frankness.
“You’re mine now.”
Her mouth worked, but no words spilled out. She had the look of a startled deer. He knew the feeling. His words, the truth behind them, shocked him as well.
Then her eyes clouded. “I’myours? Is this is about last night?” Her hands planted on her hips. “You feel obligated to marry me because you ruined me?”
