Page 97 of The Duke of Sin
“No.” He cupped her face in his hands. “You listen to me now, Alice Winslow. I spent years running from this—running from you. I told myself I didn’t need love, that I didn’t want it. That I would burn the dukedom to ashes before I ever gave my father the satisfaction of knowing I married.”
His voice broke, and his thumb brushed gently over her cheek, smearing a faint trace of blood. “But none of it matters—not the past, not the title, not my pride—none of it. Because I love you, damn it. I love you so much it has been tearing me apart. And if you leave me now, I will… I will turn around and walk away, but I swear for the rest of my life, I will never find another nor will I ever forgive myself.”
Tears pooled in Alice’s eyes as his words washed over her. Her lips parted, and her voice trembled as she whispered, “Edward…”
He bent closer until his forehead pressed gently to hers. Their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them. His next words came softer, weighted with desperation, with the positively real fear of rejection. “Marry me, Alice? Please. Let me spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you.”
For a moment, the world seemed to hang in stillness. The muffled sounds of the night faded into nothing. Her gaze met his. Then, with the faintest smile, she bit her lip and nodded.
Relief washed over Edward’s body like a tide, and he bent down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was equal part desperation, equal part devotion.
The world around them disappeared. The damp chill of the night, the flicker of lantern light, the distant hum of voices—they ceased to exist. Pain still throbbed faintly in her shoulder, but it felt far now, unimportant.
In his arms, with his lips pressed to hers, the fractured pieces of her heart began to mend.
For the first time in Alice’s life, she felt whole.
The End?
