Page 40

Three Nights To Her Decision

Cassian woke up with a jolt, sweat-slicked hair plastered to his head. He wasn’t entirely sure what had woken him at first. The grey light of dawn filtered through the curtains. He blinked sweat out of his eyes.

Am I late for riding with Richard? No, no, that was yesterday. How could I let the days slip away from me like this? The deadline for my inheritance is approaching. I have to marry, and then I can only pray that we can produce an heir immediately.

A narrow hope, really.

Cassian groaned aloud, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

Abruptly, the mattress dipped, and his eyes shot open as he sucked in a breath.

A dim, white figure sat at the end of the bed, knees tucked up to her chest.

He breathed out slowly. “Emily. What are you doing here?”

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore a flimsy white nightgown. She smiled at him, her expression unreadable, and twined a long lock of hair around her forefinger.

“You don’t sound happy to see me,” she murmured, her voice a low purr. “I am surprised. After all, it’s fairly clear how much you want me. Youlongfor me. You dream of me, don’t you? Just like you’re dreaming of me now.”

Cassian clenched his jaw. “I am a man of logic. I won’t give away my heart. I promised I would not. Just because I find you desirable—and what man would not—does not mean that you have a place in my dreams, woman.”

Dream-Emily pouted. “That’s most cruel, Your Grace. And did Matthew know, I wonder, that he was condemning you to a lonely life?”

Cassian gave a harsh laugh. “Don’t pretend you know anything about my brother or my life.”

She eyed him for a long moment, then abruptly leaned forward, resting on her hands and knees on the bed. Cassian stopped breathing.

Dream-Emily shifted forward, slowly and lithely crawling up the bed towards him. The neckline of her nightgown drooped and gaped, revealing tantalizing glimpses of small white breasts, tipped with pink. Cassian felt as though he were rooted to the mattress as she crawled closer and closer, until her hands were on either side of his hips, her face inches from his, her body hovering above him. He could feel the ghost of her breath on his skin, warm and sweet.

Up close, he could count the colors in her blue eyes. He wondered, irrationally, why she was not wearing her spectacles.

“You want me to stop pretending?” she breathed, tilting her head. “You first,Your Grace.”

Cassian jerked awake from the hazy, dizzying dream. He half expected to find Emily Belmont still curled up at the edge of his bed, smiling wryly like a mischievous pixie. He sat up, feeling groggy and not well-rested at all.

You’re a fool,dreaming about her as if any of it means anything. You have to marry quickly, and she has to marry if she ever wants to salvage her reputation and live in peace. That’s all there is to it.

Heat still coiled in his gut, and Cassian was dimly aware of a throbbing sensation of arousal. He refused to acknowledge it, throwing back the blankets and getting angrily out of bed.

Let’s see if I’m still drooling like a love-struck boy after a good, cold wash.

He stomped across the room. There was no time for this, not today. The wretched girl might have wormed her way under his defenses, but that did not mean the game was over.

If I marry her, and have her once or twice, she’ll stop lurking in my dreams, to be sure.

He splashed cold water on his face. For some reason, that thought did not reassure him.

A tap on the door made him flinch.

“Yes?” Cassian called, trying to sound as though he’d been up for hours and not sleeping the morning away.

Last night’s ride and subsequent soaking had left him cold and shivery once he returned home.

More than once, he had found himself wishing that he had somebody waiting for him at home, perhaps with a wry smile on their face and a cup of tea in their hand, ready to hear his tale of the day and laugh with him about something or another.

That, of course, was nothing more than weakness. Strong gentlemen did not sit miserably by their fires and consider how lonely they were.Dukescertainly did not.

If Matthew hadn’t had such a soft heart, perhaps he would have been alive by now.