Page 61 of Dukes for Dessert

“Oh … one or two things. One was whether he’d decided to stay in Shropshire and bury himself in his Roman villa or rush to foreign parts.”

“What did he answer?”

David shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “He says he is not certain. The villa is proving more complex than he realized. So he is remaining here for now. Which suits me.”

“Are you going to stay and help him?”

Her question was so hopeful that David wanted to kiss her. “Possibly. It would do me good, rusticating in the country and letting Town life go hang. Though I do want to make improvements to my own house—I can be a social recluse there instead. And … well, Gaspar rubs me the wrong way. I’m not sure how long I can stick him.”

“He’s a bit shy, is all.” Sophie flashed a sudden smile. “He asked me to marry him.”

David went still, his heart beating thickly as pain shot through his body. Gaspar was exactly the sort of man Sophie should marry—respectable, learned, unworldly. She would rush to him, leaving David in her dust.

He drew a hoarse breath. “Did he?”

She nodded, serene. “He knew about my predicament with Laurie, and he offered to save me from ruin. I turned him down, of course. But it was kind of him.”

“Kind?” David’s lips were so stiff, the word barely formed, but the rest of his body flooded with relief. She’d said no. “It wasn’t kindness, my dear. He wanted you.” He gazed down at the path to the ruins, a growl in his throat. “Probably still does.”

Sophie looked perplexed. “Dr. Gaspar? He never said such a thing. Nor would he.”

“Any man looking at you wants you. In his bed.” David scowled. “Trust me.”

How could they not? With her wide smile that made him hot all over, those beautiful green eyes that assessed him with intelligence she didn’t bother to hide—how could any man resist her?

“I very much doubt that,” she said with a faint laugh.

“I assure you, my dear, it is true.”

Sophie slanted David a glance that immediately made him hard. “You mean that whenever I walk into a gathering—a soiree perhaps, or a discussion on the latest improving novel—every gentleman there looks at me and thinks of bed? That is absolute nonsense, unless his thoughts are only on sleep.”

David didn’t laugh. “I know what goes on in the heads of the male sex, and they would think this.” He reached to touch her cheek. “How could they help it?”

Sophie dimpled under his fingertips. “All of them? Even Mr. Gladstone?”

David drew a breath to answer, then dropped his hand. “Perhaps not. He is a bit prim. Or, he would think it, but never let on.”

Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “You are absurd, as is this conversation.”

“No, I am a man in love.” David let the naked truth come. “When I think of life without you, Sophie, I feel … empty.”

Sophie’s laughter vanished, pain behind her eyes. “But you have so much,” she said softly. “So many who love you—Uncle Lucas, Eleanor, Hart and his family. Dear friends who will do anything for you.”

“I know. Ungrateful wretch that I am.” David removed his hat and dropped it to the ground, not caring that it rolled immediately to a corner of the wall and into a puddle. “But without you, Sophie …” He shook his head, wind ruffling his hair. “My life was different before I knew you. I didn’t realize it was empty, even when vast caverns opened before me. I filled the holes with debauchery and bad people and pretended all was well.” He gazed at her limply. “But now I know you are in the world, it has become a better place. At least the parts with you in them.”

Sophie’s voice went soft. “You always flatter me.”

“No, I don’t.” David touched her cheek, drawing fire from her smooth skin. “It isn’t flattery, Sophie. I want you to stay with me forever, but I have no business wanting that. I’m a wreck of a man, and you were already bound to an evil idiot.” He made himself lift his touch away, to not clutch at her, fall on his knees, and beg her to stay. He’d weep and grovel—anything if she would never go. “I found a way to annul your marriage so you’d be free. And you are. As you were meant to be.”

“I am free because of you,” Sophie gazed at him with too much gratitude. “I can return to my family and live my life without shame, because of you. Or follow Uncle through the wilderness digging up bits of it if I like.”

David gave her a half laugh. “When Pierson drags you out of bed at four in the morning to sift earth under the broiling sun, I imagine you’ll curse me.”

“Or the mud of England. You said he has not yet fixed on the Near East.”

“Don’t give me hope.” David glanced away from her, resting his gaze on the stones that had sheltered men of God so long ago, when they thought their enclosed world would last forever. “Or maybe I do want hope. Saying good-bye to you … It is nothing I can do, so I won’t.”

“David …”