The Duke Before Christmas - Bianca Blythe Page 0,25
from sailors.
“Marry me,” Colin said.
Portia stared. “E-excuse me?”
“You wanted a husband. Perhaps Rupert is still in London, but I’m here.”
Portia tilted her head. She was supposed to be delighted. She was supposed to smile in that delightful way of hers. Colin was certain of it.
But only bafflement was on her face.
“You needn’t look so bewildered,” Colin said. “Most women would be happy to have a proposal from me.”
Her lips twitched. “How conceited of you.”
“But I’m not wrong.”
She was silent.
Somehow it seemed terribly important that she smile.
“I know you don’t love me,” Colin said.
“You don’t love me.”
Colin was silent.
“But I would still make a good husband,” Colin said. “I am a duke.”
“You’re just proposing to be honorable,” Portia said.
“I always knew I had to marry one day,” Colin said. “There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be you.”
Hurt moved on Portia’s face.
“Look,” Colin said hastily. “I won’t have your life be ruined just because I got Mr. Andrews’s ticket.”
“So as atonement for that, you’ll marry me?”
He nodded. “You do understand.”
“I don’t want to be an atonement.”
“Oh, you have other advantages.” Colin shifted his legs over the swaying deck. “Your features are tolerable.”
She blinked, and regret pulsed through him immediately.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said awkwardly.
She’d been hoping to marry this other man, and instead he’d only mocked him to her and offered himself.
No wonder she must despise him.
“Look,” he said. “Perhaps you loved Mr. Andrews and that’s why you chose him to marry.”
She stared at him.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about love,” he said. “But when we return, you can be with him.”
“Excuse me?” Her forehead furrowed in an adorable manner.
“Or someone else,” he said hastily. “He might not like that you married another man. I—er—don’t know him well.”
“Most people would find that displeasing.”
He shrugged. “Well, then he would be missing out. He should be enjoying having such a beautiful woman.”
A strange flicker passed over her face.
He took her hands in his, and a jolt of energy passed through him. Her fingers were warm, even though it was cold outside, even though they shouldn’t be warm.
She looked at him strangely, and he dropped her fingers. No doubt, she thought him odd for clasping onto her hands for so long.
“I’m sorry.” His voice lacked its customary vigor. “What I meant to say is that I wouldn’t expect you to be tied to me. But I do want to marry you.”
Understanding finally moved over her face. “For my money? Are you one of those penniless dukes? Because I can be helpful in that regard.”
He blinked. “I have loads of money. I come from a long line of ancestors who liked nothing more than managing their money, making good investments, ensuring their estate had the most modern equipment, and being all-around dull.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders seemed a trifle shorter than they’d been before.
Colin forced himself to stop gazing at her shoulders, no matter how appealing they were.
“I would advise you to accept and have a kiss,” Niles told Portia. “Kisses make everything better.”
Colin suddenly remembered why he’d hired Niles, despite his valet’s insistence on the benefits of uncomfortable cravats. He narrowed the distance between Portia and him and swept her into his arms.
“But I haven’t said yes.” Her voice trembled, and her gaze darted to his lips.
“But you will,” Colin said.
Her lips were soft and full. They parted, and he wanted to delve into them.
Sailors applauded, and she blinked, perhaps startled by the noise of clapping. Sailors managed to be quite noisy, even when they were just banging their hands together and not shouting instructions and profanities over the wind.
“Please let me back up,” she said.
Colin sighed, then swept Portia back up, enjoying the feel of her tiny waist in his hands. To his surprise, he didn’t want to release her. He’d wanted to kiss her. He still wanted to kiss her.
Her dark eyes stared at him. They appeared stunned, and he gave her a lazy smile, the kind that always made women giggle and ruminate over his boyish qualities.
Then Portia scrambled from his arms, straightened, and...glared. “You almost kissed me.”
“Yes.” He grinned, and his heart fluttered.
Portia stepped toward him, and for a moment, he thought she might kiss him.
Instead, she slapped his cheek.
He blinked.
“Come, Jonesie,” Portia said.
Portia’s maid’s eyes widened, but she followed Portia toward the door to the hull.
Colin rubbed his cheek, then turned to Niles. He smiled. “She’s going to be my wife.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PORTIA PACED THE CABIN she shared with Jonesie. “I shouldn’t have slapped him.”
“No,” Jonesie agreed for the thousandth time.
Portia