11
Blackwell could breathe after having Donna again. He thought nothing could alleviate how empty he felt when she’d turned him down. However she hadn’t run away after their romantic interlude and a nap, which gave himhope.
Now he thought of this as a challenge. He needed to show her that being his duchess would be the best thing she’d ever do in her life. He had to marry someone, and unlike the nothingness he normally felt, Donna lit something inside hisheart.
They left the hotel and he put her single bag in the trunk of his Ferrari. “Donna, I don’t want to pressure you. I know you can marry or not marry anyone you choose, anytime you choose. I don’t have thatoption.”
“You could walk away from your family money and choose your own life,” shesaid.
Not really, but how could she, as an American, understand? “You’ll meet my mother when we go home. I had to give up my life when my father died and all his responsibilities as the Duke of Oakley are nowmine.”
“So you’restuck.”
“I need to ensure the people under my care are provided for and if that means I marry a stranger, I will do whatever I can to keep them safe. But I’d rather marryyou.”
“Thanks for letting me think about this and explaining.” She stayed beside him and he closed the trunk and went to open the passenger door. She squeezed his upper arm and then slid into the black leather seat of his car. “Even if there is only a possibility, I’m okay. I want to see where you live and what your life is like athome.”
Blackwell got into the driver’s seat, started the car and heard the powerfulvhrrmof the engine. He clutched the wheel, but turned toward her. “I don’t feel like Woodbridge Hall is my real home—I’ve spent more time in my apartment inParis.”
He pressed a button and the top came down. Donna smiled when they left the parking lot and headed toward the highway. She stared out the window, tendrils of chestnut hair flying over her cheeks. Once they were on the road and she grew comfortable with the Italian countryside, she turned and stared at his profile. He kept quiet, letting her look her fill. “I’m curious aboutyou.”
He winked at her. “I’m an openbook.”
She held the handle on the passenger side door as they went past a curve. “Do you often drive thisfast?”
His brow lowered and he checked the odometer. He was driving the American speed limit, though Italians and Avceans often drove this road even faster. He reached over and patted her leg. “I’m going slow to impressyou.”
She gave an audible sigh as she let her hair flap in the wind, but released her hold on the handle. “Ohh. Well I’m not used to riding in aconvertible.”
He took his hand back to keep both hands on the wheel so he didn’t scare her. Blackwell turned on American rock music. “Tie your hairup.”
She laughed but put her hair in a ponytail. “You learned this trick from whatwoman?”
His mind went blank at the question and he shrugged. “I don’t remember. No one was as memorable asyou.”
He handed her an extra pair of sunglasses from his console and adjusted his favorite Ray-Bans. Her excited laughter was all he needed to speed up so she could feel the wind hit herface.
They drove, singing and laughing, toward Woodbridge Hall and his skin grew more electric. He didn’t have a lot of time left to convince Donna to marry him, so he needed to formulate an action-packed, no-fail plan. He considered what he knew Donna liked and how he could play up hisstrengths.
She stared ahead of them and raised her eyebrow quizzically. “The royal palace is all lit up and it’s almostmidday.”
Thankfully he wasn’t that royal. He could have a simple backyard wedding with no fuss, which was what he’d prefer. “For the week after a royal wedding, there are activities to celebrate. If you wish to go there is probably a balltonight.”
She shook her head fast. “No thanks. Tomorrow maybe. Tonight, I want to see what your life islike.”
He drove toward his house and in the far distance knew some servant watched for his car and opened the black gate for them without being asked. She went quiet so he said, “If you marry me, we can keep the ceremony simple and invite no one, a few people or as many as youwant.”
She took off his too big sunglasses, looked at him and he swore he saw a hunger in the reflection of his glasses, but he couldn’t be sure. She shrugged. “Good toknow.”
A few minutes later, he drove through those black gates without seeing one person to thank. He pointed with his nose ahead of them. “Here weare.”
She held her breath, leaned forward and didn’t say a word about the white house in the distance that shone as the centerpiece of some old world design. She turned toward her door and stared at the manicured garden of lawn, tulips, and rose bushes. “The gardens are gorgeous. Where does that pathgo?”
He glanced past her to see which path she pointed at then answered, “Toward the pond or the horse stables depending on your turn. Do youride?”
She let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’ve never ridden a horse in mylife.”
He knew many people from Florida who rode horses—Wellington had a large polo and equestrian community, but perhaps she never had the opportunity. Blackwell parked near the front door, knowing a servant would take his car to the temperature controlled garage. He left the key in the ignition. “I ride often. I will teach you, if you’dlike.”
