She wanted to chide him and send him away, shooing him out with a stick if she had to, but something blocked the words from leaving her throat. Two of his questions, repeating in her head:What am I lacking? What do I need?
She had no reason to trust someone like him, suspicion tickling the back of her mind. And yet…
“Do you mean it?” she asked.
“You will have to be more precise.”
Valeria swallowed her unease. “Can I truly ask for anything, and you will give it to me?”
He shrugged, amusement dancing in his eyes. Eyes the color of deep water in the summertime, flecked around the pupil with a lighter ring of blue. Highly unusual, lending themselves to the intensity of his gaze.
“You will have to be more precise,” she parroted, needing an answer.
He chuckled at that. “When it comes to my code of honor, I am a gentleman of my word. Ask and you shall receive, dear angel.” He grazed his teeth across his lip. “I confess, you have me excited. You must have something truly indecent in mind if you must ask if I am willing to give anything.”
Valeria bristled, forcing herself to turn her irritation out toward the neat lawns and distant orchards, the towering oak where she liked to sit in the summer with a book. All of the beautiful things that made her feel whole and happy, in that rare sanctuary that she called home. A place she could not stand to lose, even if she could not be there to enjoy it.
“It is no wonder you swept in here with such confidence, offering so much, ifthatis what you thought I would ask for,” she replied in a measured voice. “But no, I want nothing like the scandalous things you are imagining. I doubt I evencouldimagine the depths of your degeneracy.”
He was up on his feet in an instant, the abrupt movement making Valeria flinch. How she held her nerve and continued to stare out at the grounds, she did not know, but she did not flinch again, not even as he began to walk closer. She was not going toplay his game, but nor would she back down; he needed to learn that his advances were not as foolproof as he thought, and therewerewomen who would remain impervious.
I should retreat. I should leave before he is between me and the exit.Instead, she folded her arms behind her back, watching a rotund pigeon peck at fallen acorns.
She could not see the Duke of Thornhill, his position just outside her periphery, but she felt his every step. It seemed to thicken the air between them, the pressure of his encroaching movements pushing against her back somehow, letting her know that he was getting closer and closer.
Too close.
Her breath faltered, remembering the whisper of his parting words against her neck; how boldly he had toyed withherreputation, in view of other guests. If she had been younger, a socialite that people cared about, she knew her name would have been splashed across the scandal sheets without hesitation.
There is power in being no one. There is safety in being obsolete.
But if she was going to do what she feared she was about to, her days of being unnoticed and irrelevant would come to a screeching halt. With that in mind, she let her anger at his forwardness and his disregard for the reputation of others bolster her courage.
The shadow of him fell across her, the air so thick between them now that it crackled, prickling her skin into gooseflesh. He could not have been more than a step behind her.
“What, my raven-winged angel, can I do for you?” he growled, his voice no longer the rumble of a distant storm, but the boom of thunder overhead before a lightning strike.
Embarrassed heat crept up Valeria’s throat, climbing all the way to the apples of her cheeks. She hoped he did not mistake that pink shade for something else. “There is only one thing I am lacking, Your Grace. Only one thing I need.”
She was staring right at it, not the separate pieces of the grounds and gardens and house and absent staff, but all of it together and what it meant to her. Her home and what remained of her family, teetering on a knife edge.
“And what is that?” he purred.
Steeling herself, savoring one more encouraging look at the greenery and the oak tree she adored, she turned around to face the Duke of Thornhill. Her courage threatened to waver as she raised her gaze to meet his, having forgotten how tall he was… and how close.
“It is a simple request,” she replied, “though you may find it somewhat disappointing.”
He smiled, dipping his head slightly as if he meant to steal a kiss. “I find that hard to believe.” Lifting his hand, he pushed back the wavy lock of auburn hair that she had not been able to control earlier. “Do not tease, Miss Maxwell. Do not leave a man in such suspense. Tell me, for I must know—what is it that you desire from me?”
She wrestled against the impulse to slip around him and hurry for the door, her breaths too short, her entire being too warm, the situation entirely too improper. At the very least, she should strike him for his impudence, teach him a lesson he would not soon forget. But that was hardly the way to begin a beneficial arrangement.
Swallowing her nerves, she held his gaze with what she hoped was cool indifference. “I need your expertise.”
“Ah,justwhat I was hoping to hear,” he murmured, smiling.
Valeria caught his hand before he could touch her hair again, narrowing her eyes at him. “No, Your Grace, you have misunderstood again, jumping to all the wrong conclusions: I do not needyou; I need you to help me find a husband.”
CHAPTER FOUR
