Page 65 of What a Lord Wants

Ruination, he’d called it, that night at the studio.The ruination of his artist’s focus, the loss of separation between his peer’s life and his art.

She shook her head in frustration. “How would it be different if you married me?”

“Because you know about both parts of my life, the painting and the peerage.” He slowly approached her. “You alone know how important my art is to me. You’re the only one who truly ever has.”

She should have been thrilled to hear how special she was to him, yet her chest tightened with an inexplicable dread.

“But I’m part of your art now, you said so,” she whispered. That was the reason he’d given her for refusing to make love to her the night they finished the painting. “That won’t change simply because we signed a church register.”

“It won’t be easy, I grant you, but we can make it work.” He paused, his expression solemn. “But you won’t be able to come to the studio anymore. As a marchioness, you’ll be too visible. Until I can paint under my own name, I can’t risk anyone else finding out that Ellsworth is Vincenzo.”

Not being allowed at the studio…another punishment. Yet she somehow managed to agree, “Of course not.”

“There will also be long hours spent apart, family events that I’ll have to miss, society soirees we won’t be able to attend.” He eyes darkened somberly. “When I’m in the studio and concentrating on my art, that will take all of my focus and energy. I cannot be interrupted or think about anything else but what’s emerging on the canvas.” Another pause, and this time she steeled herself for what she knew was coming— “Including you.”

She repeated, impossibly softer, “Of course not.”

“But when Iamwith you, I promise that my attention will be solely on you.” He lowered his mouth to hers and murmured rakishly, each word a warm promise against her lips, “Allof it.”

A tingle of desire sparked inside her, until the reality of her situation snuffed it out.

“I will be a good husband, Eve. I will protect you, and you will want for nothing.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, the tender caress underscoring his hope for their future, but all it did was grow her uncertainty. “But my art has to come first.”

She forced herself to nod, even though her body flashed icy numb. An emotional marriage settlement. That’s what this conversation was, with terms and limitations openly disclosed. He would give her his name and protection but not his heart. Not the way she wanted. Her and his art…not separate after all, but conditional.

She turned away from him. If he saw on her face any of the emotions churning inside her—the desperation to help her family out of this horrible situation in which she’d trapped them, the terrible guilt that he felt compelled to marry her in order to save her—the humiliation would have ended her.

She reached out trembling fingers to touch the bouquet of roses lying on her dressing table. How had they not turned to ashes, the way everything else in her life had? “You’re offering marriage because you pity me.”Notbecause he loved her.

He slipped his arms around her waist and gently tugged her back to him. Despite herself, her heart leapt into a fierce pounding, and that now familiar ache began to hum inside her.

“Believe me,mia bella,” he murmured huskily as he placed a kiss to the side of her neck. “When I imagine you as my wife, pity is the last thing I think of.”

Instead of soaring at that innuendo, her heart plummeted. Of all the proposals she’d so romantically let herself fantasize about since she was a girl, not one had been to save her reputation and her father’s business. Or from a man who refused to let himself love her.

Yet she nodded jerkily. “Yes.” Her trembling fingertip stroked the velvety softness of one the tiny buds as she blinked hard so he wouldn’t see any trace of tears. She sucked in a deep breath and forced her voice not to quiver. “Yes, I will marry you.”

His arms tightened around her. “We’ll have a good marriage, Eve, I promise you.”

So why did she feel so lost?

But in a settlement, both sides negotiated, although her side had decidedly less power to bargain. Less? She nearly laughed.None.Yet she refused to give up, not without laying outherterms for their marriage.

When he placed a final kiss to her nape and stepped away, she turned to face him, boldly snaked her arms around his neck, and raised up on to her tiptoes to kiss him. Not like the passionate kisses they’d shared before, those kisses that curled her toes and made her hair stand on end, but one that held all the affection she felt for him.

Yet one that still put an expression of surprise on his face when she finally broke the kiss and lowered herself away.

She took heart in that. If there was one thing in which she was an expert, it was living every day to the fullest. She planned on teaching him exactly how to do that, with every part of his existence, not just in his art. And by doing so, find a way to win his love.

Clearing his throat, he wrapped her arm around his. “Let’s go have that tea, shall we? We have a lot to discuss before I approach your father.”

“That bourbon, you mean.”

“See?” He led her from the room. “We’re working out perfectly already.”

Eve wasn’t at all convinced of that.

But one thing was certain. No matter how terrible the circumstances surrounding her wedding, her marriage would be a proper one. In every way. Including love. She wouldn’t settle for less.