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“I have heard your reputation, Frederick. I will not be another woman left without her maidenhead because of your fine words and forward advances.”

“You haveheardthis?” His tone was accusatory. “Someone has said that I take maidens virtue?”

Shaking her head, she ducked it low, trying to back up and put space between them. Frederick pursued, and Charlotte stumbled until she wound up with her back against the wall. Her husband followed after, framing her with his arms as he trapped her in place.

“I do not need to explain myself to you,” she pressed.

“No,” Frederick’s voice was hardly above a whisper, and his dark stare devoured her, “you don’t. But I ask you this, Charlotte. Give me seven days.”

She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

There was a hesitation, a moment where her husband roamed his eyes across her features, seeming to map each detail of her face. Charlotte felt strange under his scrutiny, and she couldn’t parse out what purpose it served. Though, she could not deny the shaded heat that billowed from his expression.

“I willnevertake anything from you against your will.” He leveled her with his stare. “Still, I cannot deny that…”

Clearing his throat, Frederick appeared to backpedal, reeling in the words that began to tumble from his lips. As he righted himself, regaining some of his composure, he released a slow exhale.

“I cannot give up on the notion of an heir. I do not wish to be the last of my family to carry on our name. So, give me seven nights to convince you.”

“Frederick, I?—”

“I will never do something you don’t want, Charlotte. Not during the seven days and not during any following moment of our marriage, regardless of the outcome. Should you still refuse me, I will leave it at that.”

Charlotte was at a loss. What was she supposed to say to the man? She understood his desire to continue his family. She knew that it was technically within his rights to demand an heir from her, but standing there before him—his arms trapping her against the wall—Charlotte was unsure what the best course of action was here. There had been a brief moment earlier when she’d nearly expected to lose her virginity by now, but so much had changed with just this single conversation.

Worse, Frederick had made it clear that this was a business arrangement that he wished only to take advantage of and perhaps sow more of his wild oats in the process.

I will not be a glorified prostitute.

“You will not change my mind, Frederick. It is pointless to attempt this foolish trick of yours.”

“Then,” he leaned forward, his breath tickling her skin he was so close, “you should have nothing to worry over. Perhaps, Charlotte, you should allow me to harbor the concern over my success since agreeing to the provision will so clearly not affect your standing.”

Expectation and curiosity smoothed over Frederick’s features as he looked down at her from his tall stature. Her blood rushed quicker through her veins, and a terrible heat crawled up from her chest to her cheeks. How was he doing this to her? What strange sorcery or substance was he using to affect her so?

Still, he was right. Agreeing to the deal would not change her mind. She was quite firm in her resolve. And the thought of seeing his expression upon his failure delighted Charlotte to no end.

“Fine, Frederick. Do your worst over seven days, and when my mind has not changed, I will hear no more talk of heirs or beds. Ever again.”

He straightened, leaving Charlotte to lean against the wall. “Deal.”

Chapter Four

Breakfast had always been a favorite meal of Frederick’s. He’d spend many a morning at the table downstairs speaking to his father, planning the next move for his business ventures, and even enjoyed a number of them with Richard, his best friend and Duke of Blacksford.

This morning’s breakfast, however, would not be the same.

He needed to track down the whereabouts of the Baron of Halfacre. Because despite what others might think, particularly Charlotte, he’d not killed the man or stashed him away somewhere. In fact, it was that very woman—who was now his wife—that prevented him from doing something truly sinister.

Charlotte…

His new bride was a fascinating specimen. Frederick could not make heads or tails of his feelings whenever she was around. It was true that she infuriated him; her bold language anddemeanor were nothing he’d seen before. Still, it was also true that the woman was…intriguing.

Objectively, she was lovely, and Frederick had to admit that she was quite to his personal liking. The striking color of her hair—a warm, deep brown that shone gold in the sunlight—and the soft dimples that framed her smile haunted his thoughts.

She was a distraction, and Frederick should have taken her refusal to bed him at face value and moved on. There was no need for this ridiculous ploy of his. Seven nights spent wooing a woman was a stretch even for him.

And still, he could not be brought to end the deal.