The Problem with Seduction - By Emma Locke Page 0,108

blond brows were striking, a permanent mark of his proud lineage.

His lips stretched in a tight line. Her heart pounded. Oh, no. Lord Bartholomew—he hadn’t liked her. Whatever his advice had been, Constantine took it very seriously. She felt her mouth go dry. “What? What did he say?”

Con took her hand. Mrs. Dalton had dressed her with care, and she wore gloves despite the absurdity of such a small detail when her whole world was falling apart. Con dropped to his knee and pressed the top of her hand against his forehead. He leaned toward her so that all the many tufts and spikes of his blond hair stuck up, reminding her of the nights they’d made love.

“Elizabeth.” He looked up at her, rounding his eyes big and serious over her hand. Then he touched his lips against her knuckles. “Will you marry me?”

Her next breath came so quickly, it caught in her throat. Unlike the first time he’d proposed, her heart soared. She’d thought he wanted to leave her, but he was asking her to marry him!

Instantly, she knew she’d made a mistake. She should tell him about the quarry. This wasn’t a man who would abandon her merely because he’d found a way to satisfy himself elsewhere. To Constantine, family was forever.

He wanted to make her a part of his family. Forever.

He waited, seemingly patiently, but when she could barely get the words out to say yes he began to look worried. She nodded her head emphatically instead. Her free hand covered her mouth. “Yes, yes. Oh, yes.”

Relief washed some of the tension from his face. He still held her hand. He kissed it again and then, to her surprise, he edged forward on his knee and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her flat belly. Right then, she knew she should tell him about the letter she’d received. The quarry awaiting his brother’s claim. His shoulders heaved as he took several deep breaths. The bands of his arms squeezed her tight, and she felt tears come into her eyes. Happy tears this time. He seemed genuinely glad of her answer.

How did she tell him that she’d kept the news of his family’s potential fortune from him? He would assume she’d deceived him on purpose. And…she had. She’d have to admit it, for she couldn’t lie to him again, just to save her own hide from his contempt.

He rose and took her face in his hands. He kissed each of her eyelids, his lips brushing against her damp lashes, before sweeping his lips across hers. It was all more romantic than even the proposals she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl. And if she’d always imagined he’d say he loved her and couldn’t live without her, well, the fact that he’d ask her to marry him after all the trouble she’d put him through was enough.

He tasted her lips gently, then with more urgency. Suddenly he drew back, leaving her panting with want. “I do love you, Elizabeth. This isn’t just because Bart believes it’s our best chance.”

Icy water dashed across her.

“You do love me?” she repeated dully, feeling cheated. The right words, the ones she’d longed to hear her whole life, but said so…wrongly. “He did love her,” and “he hadn’t proposed because it might help him to stay out of gaol.” The way he’d said it, she wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

Doubt crept back in. Perhaps he wouldn’t take kindly to her having kept the dispute over the quarry secret. Maybe this proposal had been provoked out of a sense of preservation, despite his assertion that it hadn’t. If that were the case, forgiveness wouldn’t be within his reach. Why should it, when he could just walk away?

He broke into a smile, seemingly oblivious to her guardedness. “It is unexpected, isn’t it? I had this feeling I couldn’t quite explain…right here.” He touched his belly just below his heart. “Montborne is always in and out of love, but not me. When Bart said we must marry or else no one will believe we’re the right parents for Oliver, I felt a conviction so strong, it must be love. I knew what I must do after that, and so here I am.”

She wanted to kiss him. Anything to make this feel more like a proposal and less like a confession. She didn’t regret turning his offer down just weeks ago, but today she knew him well enough to