Lynch kissed her fingertips and took a shuddery breath. “I won’t. That is done. However, there is one last thing we must discuss.”
“What now.” It wasn’t a question.
His fingers laced between her iron fingers and held them up. “I have had Fitz design something special for me.” Reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat, he drew out a small red velvet box. “Considering that no normal ring would fit—”
Rosalind sat up and nearly hit her head. All she could see was that box, her heart pounding so swiftly she almost swayed with dizziness. “What are you saying?”
“I asked your brother if I had permission to make you my consort.” He flicked the box open. “I want you to share the world with me. Forever, Rosa. No more secrets between us. Nothing but you and me, till death do us part.”
Nestled within was a gleaming steel ring, burnished so brightly that it shone. An enormous square diamond was set into the top, with a lattice of tiny, filigreed silver holding it in place. No lady of the Echelon would wear it, but it suited her, so perfectly he had obviously designed it himself. And the fact that he had asked Jack—who had given his blessing—meant so much more to her than any diamond.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hand trembling as she held it up.
Lynch slid the ring from the box. “You can never take this off, Rosa. I intend to have Fitz solder it to your finger.”
“I don’t want to take it off.” She bounced impatiently. “Hurry up and put it on.”
He slid it down over the iron knuckle and settled it in place. “Well, duchess… How do you feel?”
“I feel as if you have given me the world.” Her throat was dry and tight again as she looked at him. How could one have so much feeling inside and not drown in it? She would have to learn to cope with this. “I wish I could give you half as much.”
“You have.” He kissed her iron fingertips. “You have given me a future and joy in it too. Before I met you, I was only existing. I wasn’t living life. The last few weeks…as tumultuous as they’ve been, at least I’ve lived them.” Leaning down, he kissed her lips lightly.
“Besides,” he whispered against her lips, “we have so much to do together, you and I. A whole world to change.” The words caught her breath. “You are the only one I trust to watch my back.”
“Well, it is
Lynch smiled. “And there is my wicked Mrs. Marberry. I do believe I have one last request though… Something I would like to ask of you in exchange for the ring.”
“Anything,” she promised, smiling at this amazing man: her future, her hope, her heart…
“Keep the mask,” he breathed, and leaned down to kiss her again.
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Honoria pushed the door open and whisked inside. And stopped dead in her tracks—
Blade spun on his heel at her shocked gasp, swiftly wrapping a towel around his hips. It wasn’t quite big enough and gaped over one heavily muscled thigh as he tucked the end into itself at his waist. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her, then he scowled.
She couldn’t stop herself from staring. Acres and acres of wide, muscled chest. The barbaric band of tattoo around his left arm and down his ribs. An arrow of hair trailing from his navel down into the edge of the towel. And the tented suggestion of what that towel was hiding, proving that Blade didn’t find this intrusion entirely disagreeable.
Honoria turned away quickly. This wasn’t what she’d planned at all, but how could she go about her revenge when he was practically naked?
“Well,” he drawled. “I guess you ain’t ’ere to tuck me in.”
“Of course not,” she threw over her shoulder. She caught a distracting glimpse of him in the mirror and turned her burning face back to the wall. “You know exactly why I’m here. Put some clothes on. This is indecent.”
“I ain’t the one as just barged into a gent’s rooms without knockin’.”
The sound of the towel hitting the floor made her mouth go dry. Oh, my goodness. He was naked. And her mind’s eye was most enthusiastic about supplying her with a vision of what that might look like.
It would be very easy to confirm whether her vision was accurate.
“I’m afraid you’ve got me at a loss,” he replied, leisurely moving around behind her. Sheets rustled and then she heard the unmistakable sound of leather sliding over skin.
“Are you decent?”
“Rarely,” he said, with an ironic drawl.
“Are you clothed?”
“Aye.”
He was going to play games with her. Her fists clenched and she turned to look him in the eye. At the edges of her peripheral vision, she could just see him tugging the leather breeches into place, but she didn’t dare look lower.
“I need those diaries,” she said firmly. “This isn’t a game. You know how important they are to me.”
“The diaries, eh?” He feigned surprise. “You’re ’ere to fetch your diaries. I thought you took ’em ’ome last night.”
“You swapped them while I was getting dressed! I opened the bag and found
He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a steady look. The muscles in his forearms bunched.
“Aye. I were so desperate for your company that I stole your precious diaries. What’s in ’em that’s so important, Honor?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Then you ain’t gettin’ ’em back.”
The ring on her finger seemed to burn. “Yes, I am.” She started toward him.
“You goin’ to turn me up sweet, luv? I got news for you—I’m tired o’ playin’ games.” He took a step forward and glared down at her. “And you already owe me a kiss which you ain’t paid.”
He was in her space again, using his size and height to intimidate. A little flutter started, low in her stomach. “I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you unless I wanted it too.”
“Maybe I changed me mind.”
A little flick of her fingernail opened the toxin-smothered needle. The thought of kissing him did horrible things to her willpower—and her knees—but it would also get her close enough to render him at her mercy. Honoria tilted her chin up and stared him directly in the eyes.
His eyes widened imperceptibly, and his voice was low and husky when he said, “Is that a dare I see in your eyes?” He took another step closer, so close that her skirts brushed against his legs.
“I can’t stop you,” she said. “But I promise you shall regret this.”
Blade reached up and slowly, slowly stroked her cheek, his gaze following the path of his fingers. They dipped over the lush pillow of her top lip. Tasted the wetness of her mouth. And then lingered at the center of her lower lip. She was shivering by the time he’d finished.
“Aye,” Blade murmured, his lips curving in a satisfied little smile. “A bleedin’ martyr till the end. I think not.”
He stepped away, giving her his back. Honoria’s jaw dropped as he turned and held up his shirt as though
