Chapter 20

His refusal threatened her ability to breathe.

Lowenbrock had admitted he imagined being with her. It shouldn’t have surprised her, yet it did. From everything she’d read and witnessed with her own eyes, men were freer when it came to casual lovemaking. But Lowenbrock clearly wasn’t as taken with her as she’d hoped. She was a fool. The attraction she felt for him was one-sided and he was being polite to spare her feelings.

Her humiliation was complete. “I understand,” she said, trying to gather the shredded remains of her dignity.

She started to turn away, knowing he wouldn’t stop her from leaving a second time, but she was mistaken. He moved so quickly she was in his arms before she realized what was happening. Her body was scant inches away from his, and she could feel the heat of his body reaching out for her.

“Do you know how lovemaking works, Amelia?”

She could only nod, unable to form words. She’d been naive once, but one young woman who lived in the village had taken delight in shocking Amelia with her knowledge after she’d wed.

“Do you know what happens to a man’s body when he aches to make love to a woman?”

She’d been mistaken when she thought she’d already reached the depths of her humiliation. “I understand what you’re saying. You don’t think you can… perform.” Surely she would never be able to face his man again.

He tugged her against him, her entire body pressing against his.

“Can you feel that? Do you know what it means?”

Her mouth went dry as she took in his meaning. She’d noticed how muscular he was, but what she felt pressed into her lower belly was not muscle. It was his manhood. Which meant he did find her desirable. That he wanted to make love to her.

She wanted to say something witty and worldly, but all her bravado had been used up when she asked him to make love to her. So instead of replying with words, she nodded.

“Make no mistake, I would like nothing more than to take you upstairs right now and give you everything you want.”

She licked her lips, and he let out a small groan, lowering his head so his face was scant inches from hers.

“Can I kiss you, Miss Weston?”

It was ridiculous. He’d already called her by her given name, so why did she feel a little thrill now that he was being so formal? She’d examine that emotion later. For now, she wanted this moment to continue, afraid that any delay on her part would lead to Lowenbrock changing his mind.

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She held her breath until he covered her mouth with his, and then she released it with a soft sigh. She’d never kissed a man before. It was a gentle touch, his mouth against hers, but she felt the shock of the intimacy through her entire body.

She leaned closer into him, enjoying the way he cradled her face with his hands. His lips moved against hers, deepening slightly and then retreating. Each time he started to draw back, she followed him, wanting nothing more than for their kiss to continue forever.

She grasped his shoulders, fearing he would end this too-perfect moment before she was ready. But then he did something she wasn’t expecting. He touched her lips with his tongue.

Instinct took over, and she didn’t realize she’d opened her mouth until he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth. She wanted to get closer to this man, wanted to crawl into his skin. Since that wasn’t possible, she answered his exploration with her own.

She made a soft sound of pleasure. When he drew back, she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. She waited in silence, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Stopping right now is going to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.” There was a roughness to his voice that underscored his words.

Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. “Then don’t stop.”

There was something about his expression, a hunger in his gaze, that had her convinced he was about to acquiesce.

“I need to ask you something, Amelia.”

She nodded. He took it as permission to question her, but she was already giving him her answer. Yes, she wanted him to make love to her.

“Will you consent to be my wife?”

She opened her mouth to say yes but then froze when she realized what he’d asked her. Her heart screamed at her to accept his proposal, but her logical nature chose that moment to assert itself.

“Why?” she asked.

Her question caught him off guard. Well, good. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

“Why should you marry me?”

She shook her head. “No. I want to know why you’re proposing marriage.”

He didn’t even hesitate. “So that I can take care of you.”

She waited a few seconds, but it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate. She pushed against his shoulders and he released her immediately.

“That’s why you want to marry me? So you can take care of me?”

“Well, yes. That and the fact we’re clearly attracted to one another.”

She shouldn’t ask her next question. She knew it would lead to heartbreak, yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Do you love me?”

This time he did hesitate, and her fragile elation at being held in this man’s arms disappeared.

“I don’t know. I like you a great deal, and I want to take care of you. It’s almost a compulsion at this point.”

She thought back to the way he’d stepped in that night at the tavern and helped her when things got out of hand with one of the patrons. She couldn’t help but wonder if he made rescuing women his mission in life. Much as she wanted to accept his proposal, she needed to be more to him than an obligation. “I am not a child, my lord.”

He frowned at her use of the honorific but didn’t correct her. “Of course not. Our embrace is evidence I don’t think of you that way.”

He’d admitted that he cared for her as a friend. She shouldn’t be so fixated on words, but it seemed she needed them. Perhaps if she didn’t love him, it would be enough to accept what he was offering her. It was more than many women had when they accepted an offer of marriage or when their families arranged one for them. It would seem, however, that she wasn’t content to accept a practical union from Lowenbrock. It would hurt too much. She wanted everything from him.

She wouldn’t deny him. Instead, she’d wait. Give him time to learn whether he could come to love her as much as she loved him.

She forced herself to smile at him, hoping he wouldn’t see her sorrow. “Perhaps you should ask me again at a different time. If you don’t change your mind, that is.”

His brows lowered into a confused frown. “You’re denying me?”

“No, I’m not. I’m saying that we should postpone this conversation for a later time.”

He didn’t withdraw from her physically, but she could almost feel the emotional wall he placed between them. “As you wish.”

“My earlier statement is still true. I would welcome you into my bed tonight.”

She saw the flicker of yearning in his eyes before he looked away and gave his head a sharp shake.

She sighed. This man was one of the most stubborn people she’d ever met. But that mattered not, because he’d met his match in her. He would make love to her. She knew with certainty now that he wasn’t immune to her. He did want her as a man wanted a woman. Only time would tell if he could come to think of her as more than a friend, as more than someone he felt obliged to care for.

She would give him that time. Until then, she’d make him understand that he didn’t need to marry her for them to be together.