But she also knew that he didn’t return her affection. Sure, it would be easy to fool herself that he did. He had raced to her rescue. But he was doing that for her father’s benefit, not hers.
And the fact that his investigation took precedence over her told her he didn’t really care for her. She shivered.
She wasn’t the sort to inspire such loyalty.
She’d had suitors. Plenty of them. But none of them ever seemed to stick and she knew the reason. Once a man got past her beauty…
She shook her head. “I don’t want to trap a man while he’s weak.”
Bash sighed behind her. “I might have to insist.”
She turned then, her rear pressing into the hollow of Brandon’s body. He was warm and even in sleep, she could feel the hard ridges of his muscles. “I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t like it either,” Bash said. “But you were alone with him. For a lengthy period of time. On a public street, if I’m not mistaken.”
A wave of shock coursed through her as her hands flew to her mouth. “But…”
“Someone might have recognized you,” Bash continued.
She swallowed, trying to clear her throat of a very large lump. “You’re going to force him to marry me because he saved me?”
Bash shrugged. “He clearly loves the business. In this arrangement, he’d get a controlling share. And Emily, you are…” Bash paused, looking up at the ceiling. “Quite comely. There’s a great deal for him to enjoy about this match.”
She sighed, tears stinging at her eyes. Because. Well, because wasn’t this exactly like her? Isabella and Eliza got great loves. Men who’d given them their heart and soul. And what had Emily inspired? A good business deal and…enjoyment. Not passion, not all-consuming fire. She was just…good enough. No better. A convenience.
And here she was enjoying all sorts of romantic fantasies. Alone.
“By all means.” She waved her hand. “Marry me off to the man who’d benefit from my business shares.”
Bash wiped his hand down his face. “If someone saw you…” He drew in a deep breath. “Then it’s spinsterhood as the alternative. You know you’re welcome here forever. But is living here, unmarried and alone your entire life, really what you want?”
Those were her choices? She shook her head. “I thought you didn’t like him.”
“It’s not a question of like. I’m sure he’s fine. As you said, he did save your life. Twice. I thought he might be consorting with the crime ring and I didn’t like that, but he’s not and that raises him, in my estimation.”
She looked down at his sleeping form. Cupping his cheek, she allowed her thumb to brush along his eyelashes. “I need to think, Bash, and I doubt he’ll wake for some time. Can you have a meal sent to my room?”
Bash nodded as she rose. Her gaze strayed back to Brandon. He looked younger sleeping. Soft even.
With a quick sigh, she turned and left the room.
But in her heart, she already knew what she was going to do.
Was she a fighter? No. She wanted to be stronger and more capable. She wished to save her family as her sisters had done and then know, no matter what life brought, she’d be strong enough to weather any storm. But as usual, she would likely do what was best for everyone else. Would she stand against Bash if he insisted? She sighed. Of course not.
Chapter Five
Brandon woke, blinking his eyes. The room was dark except for embers burning in the fireplace.
What time was it?
Where was he?
He lifted his head trying to survey the details in the dark. The room smelled unfamiliar. He was lying on a settee and not in a bed. The pillow was fluffy, the blanket warm.
Slowly, the room came into a shady focus.
Across from him was another couch.
On that couch lay a woman.
Emily.
His chest tightened as he sat up, staring at her in the darkness.
Her long, dark lashes rested on her cheek, her mouth full and relaxed. One arm was tucked against her body, but the other flung out, hanging off the edge of the settee and dangling down near the floor. Slowly he stood.
Skirting around the table that separated the two settees, he reached down and grasped her wrist in his hand. Her bones were delicate and her arm thin, making his hand appear huge. Her skin, much paler than his, seemed to glow in the low light.
It was achingly soft under his fingertips and he lightly stroked the inside of her wrist. The temptation to drop to his knees and pepper that same skin with light kisses surged through him but he carefully tucked her arm up against her housecoat instead.
He skimmed his gaze over the rest of her body. She lay on her side, a loose braid coming over her shoulder. Even in her thick housecoat, he could see the swell of her hips and as he glanced down her body, the bare toes peeked out from the hem.
He flexed his hand, resisting the urge to trail his fingers along the curve of her slim waist and hips until he could touch her toes. What was it about them that was so…adorable? Was there anything about this woman that wasn’t stunning?
She sighed in her sleep, and the sound skittered along his skin making his flesh rise. Nope. Not even that sound was unattractive. In fact, it had been incredibly…lovely.
“Your Grace?” she asked, her lashes fluttering, her voice high and achingly gentle. “Is everything all right?”
Damn. She was everything soft in this world. All the softness he’d never been treated to. His mother had died before he’d even known her. His father was a spy that had all but abandoned his son to the wrath of an angry king.
But Emily…she was like a balm to his wounds and he’d nearly allowed the worst to happen to her. “Everything is fine.” He couldn’t resist then, reaching out
