Page 102 of One Night with a Prince

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“I’m not sure that I do,” she said, peeved that he could be so certain of her. He reached for the buttons at the back of her day gown, and she added, “Stop that! We don’t have time for—”

“We have plenty of time,” he assured her. “The next round of games won’t begin for another hour or two, and we need only a few moments with Stokely. So we have all the time we need to…work out the terms of our agreement.”

He slid her gown off her shoulder and pressed an openmouthed kiss to the flesh he’d bared. “Besides, I’m not leaving here until you agree to marry me.”

As his hand slid inside her gown to cup her breast through the chemise, she sighed. It had been too long since he’d touched her, too long since he’d caressed her. “But what if…your plan doesn’t work, and you can’t retrieve them?”

“Then we renegotiate.” He dragged her gown off. “But don’t worry, I’ll get them back somehow. As long as you agree to my terms.”

When he circled around behind her to unlace her corset, she became aware of her surroundings. “Gavin, if someone sees us—”

“Don’t worry, they’re playing cards.” But after dropping her corset beside her, he strode over to close the gazebo door. “So? Will you marry me?”

“I don’t know why I should,” she grumbled. “It will quite ruin me in society to be married to a scoundrel like you.”

He laughed. “As if you care about society.”

She thrust out her chin. “And I have some terms of my own.”

He arched one eyebrow as he came toward her, shedding his clothes piece by piece. “I hope you’re not going to ask me to close my club.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because of Haversham and his penchant for gambling,” he said tightly. She snorted. “Youwould never lose a fortune at the tables. No, I’m not worried about you on that score.” When relief showed in his face, she couldn’t resist saying, “But if that were one of my conditions, would you do it?”

He approached her, eyes narrowing. “You’re going to be a stubborn minx and make me beg, aren’t you?”

“After all you’ve put me through?” she said lightly. “Absolutely.”

She backed away from him, only to come up squarely against the pillar that held up the gazebo. Wearing nothing but his drawers, he reached out and flicked her chemise off her shoulders. As it slid down her body, he dropped to his knees, and said earnestly, “I’ll do anything it takes to have you in my life.”

“Anything?”

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“Anything.” He slid her own drawers down, then leaned close to press a kiss to the curls that already grew damp. “I want to make you mine.”

His mouth closed hotly over her, sucking, caressing. “I want to take care of you, have you take care of me,” he murmured against her. “Have children with you.”

Her blood raced as she clutched his head. “Oh, Gavin, what if I can’t?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s you I want.”

“Onlyme?” she whispered. “You have to admit you’re used to having a rather…wide variety of women at your disposal.”

He sat back on his heels and stared up at her, eyes solemn. “Sometimes a man must sample a variety of women to learn what he really wants. And I want you. Just you. From now on, until death do us part.”

She swallowed, still hesitant. “No mistresses, no ladies of the evening—”

“I don’t need them anymore, my darling. They were all practice for you.” Then he covered her with his mouth, and began to show her exactly how much he’d learned from his “practice.”

“Ohhh, Gavin…” she murmured, as the ache built in her, the ache that only he could soothe, that only he roused. “Please…please—”

“Marry me.” He brought her just to the edge, then kept her there hanging, yearning…” Marry me, Christabel.”

There was one thing he hadn’t said, but she was afraid to ask for it. Because if Gavin couldn’t love her—