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He could almost hear the last brick crumbling in the carefully constructed walls around his heart.

It was impossible to isolate himself from this woman.

Impossible to keep the vow he made so long ago.

But perhaps he could find a loophole. He promised to remain alone, but that didn’t mean he needed to avoid physical intimacy with Ivy.

Even if he developed affection for her, she never needed to know.

She had no desire for a husband, and Edward did not deserve a wife.

Especially not one as fascinating as Ivy.

If he fell, crashing into a thousand pieces upon landing, it would be a fitting consequence, and he would still be keeping his vow of solitude.

In fact, the pain of having to do so would make it an even more appropriate punishment.

But I can still show her pleasure. She deserves to know the magic her body can achieve if she wishes to do so .

What an honour to be the one who might awaken her to the delights of two consenting people.

It mattered little that he would be irrevocably ruined by Ivy because she would walk away from their time together knowing sexual pleasure was possible.

Bringing her joy was worth whatever pain her imminent departure might cause him.

And wouldn’t Philippa delight in discovering Edward had fallen in love with someone he could never have? The poetic justice was stunning.

Steady on. I’m not in love with her.

Not yet. But Edward knew the signs. Even if it was a very long time ago, he remembered. Although this was not exactly the same. When he’d fallen in love with Philippa, it was the mad, obsessive passion of a puppy. This feeling was different. Deeper. Far more worrying.

Best not to think about it and focus on Ivy. Yes. Ignoring a problem always solves it.

‘You like the word cock because you think the bird is pretty?’ He tried to keep the humour from his voice and failed miserably.

Ivy seemed to realise he was laughing at her. ‘Well, why not? It’s certainly better than root or tackle.’

It was a shame Edward enjoyed using his tongue so much as he was about to swallow it. ‘Where did you hear those words?’ he sputtered like an offended dusty dowager.

Ivy shrugged. ‘Millie and Hannah, mostly.’

Edward shook his head. ‘Right. Well.’ He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to gather his thoughts.

‘What I’m trying to say is, you didn’t think kissing would be enjoyable until you tried it.

Perhaps it will be similar with other intimacies.

If you are interested, that is. In more than kissing. ’

Dear God. I am a bumbling idiot.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Ivy looked at her feet instead of him. ‘You’re right. I never wanted to kiss anyone before. I thought that part of me was broken. But…’

‘But…’ Edward encouraged.

She blew out a shaky breath. ‘I find myself wondering, now. About… things… with you.’

He raised his brow, his lips twitched as all manner of illicit images flitted through his mind. ‘Things?’

Ivy lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. ‘Millie, Hannah, and Penny give each other looks sometimes. As if they know a secret that I’m not privy to.

I hate that. I hate feeling like I’m missing an integral part of myself.

Like a limb that has been amputated.’ She lifted her thumb to her mouth, biting the nail.

‘Now I’m beginning to think that part of me wasn’t amputated, but it’s rather like a rose bush in winter, lying dormant. ’

‘And I am the spring sunshine, bringing it back to life?’

Ivy rolled her eyes. ‘Men and their arrogance. You are hardly sunshine. And perhaps I am wrong entirely. Mayhap kissing is all I will ever want to do.’

‘Shall we try another experiment then? To determine what you want.’

Ivy quirked her head. ‘Experiment?’

‘Your father told you all the ways a man can take from a woman. How sexual relationships can be an ugly extension of control and dominance. But it’s also possible to give and receive a great deal of pleasure when both partners have equal power.’

Ivy’s face paled at the mention of her father, but it was impossible to move forward without acknowledging how that man had distorted something that could be so beautiful.

Edward chose his words carefully, painfully aware of how important this decision could be for Ivy. ‘In this situation between us, I propose you have total control. At least to start. Until you can trust me.’

She frowned. ‘Total control of what?’

‘Kissing. Touching my body. Letting me touch yours. Exploring any desires you might have.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Touching each other… where?’

Clenching his hand into a fist, he beat back his lust with vicious determination. ‘Wherever you wish. No part of me is off limits.’

‘What if I freeze again?’

He shrugged. ‘When you are frightened, we stop. Talk. Drink hot chocolate. Play whist. Practise shooting intruders. Whatever it is you need to do until the fear dissipates, and then we continue. If you wish.’

Ivy tapped her finger against her skirt. ‘You believe if I face my fear of… intimacy… I might defeat it?’

Edward held his breath and nodded.

‘I need to think about this. I’ve never wanted to explore,’ she waved her hand between the two of them, ‘whatever this is between us before.’

‘And if you don’t wish to now, we won’t.’

Ivy puffed out a breath. ‘I do like kissing.’

‘And I very much like kissing you.’ Edward snapped his mouth shut.

He didn’t want to pressure her. While he wanted to encourage her to face her demons so that she might vanquish them, it wasn’t his place to tell Ivy how to heal from her wounds.

Certainly not when the plan he recommended selfishly played into his own desires.

Ivy swallowed, the delicate column of her throat constricting as she tipped her chin up and pressed her lips together. ‘I shall think on it.’

Edward nodded. ‘Then I shall bid you goodnight.’ Bowing his head, he turned and walked from her room as every cell in his body screamed at him to stay.

When he reached his own door and undressed, he realised her list was still in his pocket. Pulling it out, he placed it on the desk next to the two notes from the Devil’s Sons. Looking at the three pages together, he realised an odd similarity between Ivy’s list and the note found on Lord Thurston.

‘Bloody fucking hell.’