Page 30 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

“It doesn’t matter.” She didn’t want to hear him deny something so obvious. “I… you wanted to know why I was out of sorts and I answered you.”

She started to walk away, but his hand closed around her wrist. Every nerve in her body went haywire as her breath caught in her throat.

Did he know it was the first time he’d touched her skin?

The first time he’d ever reached out and touched her.

His hand was firm and warm even if the surface was smooth.

“Ellie,” his voice came soft and deep.

She turned her head further away, knowing she could never look him in the eye when his hand was on her. “I have to finish this bouquet for Aunt Theo. You should go back inside to her. I know she’s missed you.”

He pulled her closer by her arm, turning her to face him. She turned her face down to stare at the grass, at his shoes, at the hem of her white muslin dress. His hand closed around her shoulder and she closed her eyes tightly.

“Will you listen to me?” he asked.

She’d dreamt of this, but it was all wrong. “Please,” the plea drifted past her lips. She didn’t know what she was begging him for. To hold her? To prove her wrong? To let her go? Why wouldn’t he allow her to leave? Did he feel guilty? “I’m sorry, I’m not angry with you. I don’t blame you.”

Before she could process what was happening, she found herself pressed gently against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Tingles cascaded all over her body, concentrating in her breasts.

She moved her hands to his chest, putting some distance between the two of them.

She couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than him realizing the effect his body had on hers while he was trying to comfort her.

She should push herself away. If anyone saw them like this, the scandal would be unimaginable.

He would be forced to marry her then, and she would spend the rest of her life withering away in the knowledge that his good heart had ruined his life.

But it felt so wonderful to be held, especially by him.

His body was so hard and warm, and if she leaned her face forward, her head would fit perfectly under his chin.

And it was his choice, wasn’t it? She hadn’t coerced him into this.

How many times had she wanted him to do this?

To stroke her head and her back and comfort her as he was doing in this moment.

How long did she have left? Should she pull away first?

What if he was waiting for her to end it?

What if he thought she was greedy and shameless?

Reluctantly, she lifted her head, drawing away from him.

His cheek brushed against her temple, but his arms stayed around her.

What was he thinking? Was he pitying her?

She tilted her head back slightly to meet his gaze and regretted it immediately.

Her stomach clenched in awareness of how close his face was, how little it would take for him to kiss her.

His expression was… different. Serious but with an intensity she’d never seen before from anyone. Was he annoyed?

The hand on her hair moved and he was brushing away a smudged, escaped tear with the back of his fingers. She froze, unable to believe what was happening, even as his hand closed around the back of her neck.

He’s going to kiss my forehead , she thought frantically as his head lowered. Don’t assume anything again. He’s being kind.

Then his mouth closed over hers and her mind went blank. Over and over, his lips caught hers in a delicious dance that went so far beyond what she’d attempted in his office. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she gasped, her fingers curling reflexively into his jacket.

He was kissing her. Finally, on a summer day, in a blooming garden, Richard Thornfield was kissing her.

*

He had to do it. He hadn’t intended to kiss her when he got there.

Or at least he hadn’t meant to do it before proposing.

But the more she spoke, convincing herself that she was beneath the notice of everyone and the more she asserted that he had been aiming to protect his family from her the more it became apparent that words were only going to be his enemy.

There wasn’t a word he’d said she hadn’t taken to heart.

When he’d said he didn’t want her, she had believed him, so now, with his feelings so clearly the opposite, he would have to show her the truth.

He would have to prove to her that he wanted her, that she was even more precious to him now than before.

He could never have imagined how much fear and self-doubt she’d harbored inside.

He wanted to chase every shadow of skepticism from her eyes and mind.

She was the sweetest thing. It took a moment for her to relax into him then another for her to respond, echoing his actions with first hesitancy and then growing eagerness.

He tilted his head to kiss her deeper and she whimpered softly, melting against him like no one else ever had.

She had waited for him, not some nebulous man meant to be her husband, but him .

He couldn’t believe someone like her had known from just one look that he was the one she wanted.

It made him want to be worthy of her pure, open heart.

Her fingertips brushed against his neck, his jaw, sending goosebumps racing over his skin.

He had ached for that touch since the first time he’d felt it.

It was painful how much he wanted her hands on his body.

The tenuous hold on his reason slipped. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her up against him until he could feel every inch of her lithe body against him.

She gasped loudly, her hand gripping his shoulder.

It was enough to bring him back to reality, but not enough to let her go.

There wasn’t a force on earth that could take her from his arms.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and buried his face desperately into the soft, rose-scented curls of her hair. He could feel her breath through his cravat as she panted, her face pressed against his neck. It was perfect. She was perfect.

“You said you didn’t want me in that way,” she whispered.

“Yes, well, clearly I’m either an idiot or a liar,” he replied.

She giggled and something in his heart fluttered.

Fluttered. Like he was a green schoolboy all over again with his first crush.

This was what it should have been from the first moment.

Soft hands, sweet kisses and wonder. He’d never been able to have it before, but by God, he would have it now.

He wanted to stay here for the rest of his life, or at least the rest of the day.

“I’ll remember that.” She tilted her head back again and he was gratified to see the smile on her face, the drowsy pleasure on her face. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

“Are you asking me?” he asked, as her fingers curled into his jacket.

“Are you saying yes?”

He glared at her playfully, utterly delighted. “This conversation seems to be happening in reverse.”

“Well, you already know I want to marry you. You are the only unknown entity.”

“And this wasn’t enough elucidation?” He asked, giving her body a slight squeeze.

Her smile faltered for a moment and her eyes dropped down to where her hands were playing with his clothes. Fuck. Too soon. She wasn’t ready for teasing yet at least not about that. He would have to be careful with her in the future. “Yes, Ellie. I would very much like to marry you.”

She looked up at him again and he watched her smile curve her mouth and light up her eyes from the inside, brightening her face like a swift sunrise. Stunning.

“Truly?” she asked, bouncing on her toes.

“Truly,” he replied, rubbing her nose with his.

“You’ll call on me tomorrow?” Her eyes were shining up at him with love and trust.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she replied with a shy, delighted smile and his heart began thumping even more forcefully in his chest, his stomach swirling with giddy anticipation. This was what he’d wanted to feel his entire life.

“Then I shall call upon you at around eleven o’clock if that would suffice, Miss Hawthorne.”

She giggled again and laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Thank you.”

Thank you. Imagine her thanking him for doing something so self-serving as proposing to the woman he wanted and admired above any others.

A woman who loved him truly and deeply. A woman who all conventional wisdom dictated he had no business pursuing at all.

Speaking of, there was one bit of business he needed clarity on before he moved forward.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but if they were going to reveal this to her father, it had to be said. “Sweetheart.”

She hummed in acknowledgement.

“Have you spoken to your father about this?” he asked.

“About what?”

“About you and me.”

She lifted her head and squinted up at him in confusion. “It’s only just happened.”

“I mean, does he know that you consider me a suitor. Does he know that you wanted to marry me?”

“Does it matter?” She frowned, and he could see her stubborn nature rising to the fore.

Had she truly not wondered if her father would accept him? “It may well matter to him.”

“Because you are Chinese?”

“Because I am a merchant. A lowly tradesman without a single drop of noble blood.”

Her frown deepened. “I don’t care about that.”

“I know, sweetheart, but he might.” And by that, Richard meant he definitely would.

If her suspicions were true, and he was the sort of man to hide the fact that he once saw a black woman as worthy of being a viscountess, then he absolutely would object to Richard marrying Elodia.

If not for her sake then for the sake of his reputation as a viscount.

She frowned and shook her head. “I do not believe that he will care, but if he does, it still wouldn’t matter. He owes me this.”

He nodded but didn’t say anything further.

It was Elodia’s nature to resort to brute force, but Richard had spent enough time among the men of the British ton to know that their marriage would be hard fought.

The cost was yet unknown to them but the prize was a lifetime with her, in her arms. A lifetime with every single one of her smiles.

For that, there wasn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do, any price he wouldn’t be willing to pay one hundred times over.