His lips curved.
“At least explain their purpose. You owe me that much.”
His shoulders rose and fell. “They prevent lack of structure.”
“There must bemoreto it than that, this need of yours to control.”
He flashed her another disarming smile. “What gentleman would resist keeping such a beautiful wife under his thumb, where he knows she will be safe and protected?”
“When you say it like that, it almost sounds romantic.”
Laughter glimmered in his eyes. And something else, something that robbed the air from her lungs. His gaze dropped to the exposed flesh of her low-cut gown, and Willow was sure he could see her pulse leaping just there, beating away at an alarming pace.
“What are you up to?” The question leaped from her tongue. But Willow was sure he was up to something. He was acting far too agreeable.
“I’m attempting to be charming.”
“Why?”
“Such skepticism. Did you not wish for us to become more amicable toward one another?”
“You expect me to believe you are being charming because I suggested it?”
His careless smile widened. “So youdothink me charming.”
“Calculating, more like it—devious, even.”
He laughed. “Well, they do say there is nothing more honest than a man and a woman in bed.”
Heat pooled at her core at the sudden intensity of his eyes.
“But we are not in bed,” Willow pointed out.
“But we could be.”
Oh dear lord.
No matter how hard she tried to draw air into her lungs, to reply with a witticism, she only remained breathless in response.
“You cannot possibly be propositioning me?”
“I promise you, Willow: there is so much morehonestyfor you to discover in my bed.” This time roguish mischief did sparkle in his gaze.
“What about my sister?” she said, at last finding her voice. “Will you agree to let this grievance of yours go?”
Since he brought it up, she might as well ask. Before she did something as wanton as jump into his bed. He had a way to slay her wits. And that was just with a kiss.
He stared at her for so long, Willow thought he wouldn’t answer. The fire in his eyes cooled and a different kind of intensity filled them.
She hardly took note of the food the footman placed before them, her gaze held captive by his, attempting to decipher every subtle change in his face.
Finally, he answered with, “I am open to discussing my initial intentions on one condition.”
“Which is?” She could hardly believe her ears.
“Any discussion on the matter will remain separate from our marriage.”
Her heart skipped a beat before galloping forward. She gathered his meaning. He didn’t want their marriage to depend solely on the situation with Holly—not its success or its failure—but he was willing to discuss the matter. He was willing to listen.
