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Scarlett sighed. “I would be happy to see him spend the rest of his life in prison.”

He nodded. “I will make certain of it. And then after that…” He took a deep breath. “After that, you may return to SouthfordEstate, if that is your wish. You are my Duchess in truth now. No one will dare question what you do.”

“You mean for me toleave?” She balked.

“I will not force you to stay with me, little cat.”

“You will not force me, or you do not want me?” she retorted bitterly.

He looked at her in surprise. “My dear Duchess, you donotneed further proof of how much I desire you.”

“Really?” She slapped angrily at the water, sending it splashing into his face. “How am I supposed to believe that when you push me away at every turn? Before this, you were content to ignore me. Now, you arereturningme to my family like—like something you bought and no longer desire!”

He laughed harshly, his hand coming up to the back of her neck as he brought his forehead to hers.

“Woman, have you gone mad? There is no one I desire more than you.”

He pulled her in for a kiss that consumed them both, one that would leave no room for any doubt of how much he desired her.

Her arms came around him, dripping wet and splashing water in their wake. He did not care if his clothes were soaked through—that would be his valet’s problem.

All he cared about was her lips moving against his, the taste of her dancing on his tongue as she opened up for him so sweetly.

“I love you,” he told her, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so damn much, Scarlett, that I would willingly cut off my arm if you needed my hand.”

She wrinkled her nose and laughed. “I love you, too, morbid imagery and all.”

He groaned and nipped her bottom lip. “You are going to be the death of me, little cat,” he murmured against her mouth. “And I cannot think of a better way to die than at your sweet hands.”

And he meant it—all of it.

EPILOGUE

The feel of his lips descending upon hers was a sensation that she was never going to tire of. Not in this lifetime, and not in a million years.

Scarlett clung to him as she allowed the panic and confusion from earlier to melt into molten desire. Her nipples hardened to stiff points in the water before his hand unerringly found her breast. She arched into his touch without shame, his name wrung from her lips like a fervent prayer.

“Come out of the water, little cat,” he urged, nipping her lower lip. “It is getting cold.”

She did not even feel anything getting cold, for she had turned into liquid fire at his touch. All she knew was warmth. All she knew was heat.

He helped her out of the water, barely parting from her before his lips were on hers once more.

Hudson did not just kiss her hungrily. He was like a man who had been starved for years and she was the only meal he had ever cared for.

Scarlett sighed as he dried her damp skin, his hands gentle and insistent, his lips thorough. He had always been a contradiction, and she loved him all the more for it. She was never going to tire of it, of him.

He slid his arms around the back of her shoulders and her knees, lifting her effortlessly into his arms as she openly admired the muscles bunching and flexing in his shoulders and arms.

By all that was holy, he was the most spectacular specimen of masculinity she had ever laid her eyes on. Even Greek statues had nothing on him.

“Keep looking at me like that and you will find yourself unable to sleep a wink tonight,” he growled as he laid her on his bed. His hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from the side of her face. “These eyes of yours… they have had me in a spell from the moment I saw them.”

Scarlett smiled. “That evening I arrived with Mama.”

“No, little cat.” He shook his head with a smile. “Before that.”

She looked at him in confusion.