Page 81 of Road Trip With a Rogue
“That’s true.”
He took a step toward her. “Then humor me. How will you know when a man loves you?”
His question caught her off guard. In truth, she’d never actually thought about it, beyond a vague feeling that she’d somehow justknow. Tess and Ellie presumably knew that Justin and Harry loved them, but Daisy had never asked them to explain how. That omission was something she needed to rectify if she had any hope of making Vaughan fall in love with her. She’d need to know when her efforts had been successful, after all.
“Well, I suppose he would have proved his love for me in a hundred different ways,” she temporized.
“How? By filling your house with so many flowers you get hay fever? Composing sonnets to your eyebrows?” His tone was sardonic.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “I can’t say either of those would convince me. Quite the opposite.”
“What, then? Would he build you a house? Plant you a garden? Give vast sums to a charity close to your heart?”
“Fund a home for soiled doves, wounded veterans, and stray dogs, you mean?” Daisy saw his look of confusion and laughed. “That was what Tess, Ellie, and I said we’d do when Tess first became the Duchess of Wansford. We didn’t end up with quite that combination, but we do support two different boardinghouses in Covent Garden. The Traveler’s Rest is for veterans, and the Golden Hart is for soiled doves. Both of them accept dogs. They’re run by a friend of Harry’s uncle, Hugo Ambrose.”
“All very admirable.” He took another step closer. “But you haven’t answered my question. We’ve already established that you don’t need to beinlove tomakelove. Do you think fucking someone who’s in love with you will feel different?”
“I’m not sure.”
He was in front of her now, and his proximity made her breath come a little faster. The delicious scent of him, dark and tempting, made it hard to think.
“I’m trying to understand the logic here,” he continued softly. “Would a man who loves you be gentle? Or rough? Or a combination of both?”
His eyes roamed over her face in the dim light, resting lightly on each of her features as if cataloguing each one. “He’d obviously desire you so much that he’d be desperate for you, yes? But he’dalsotake the time to pleasure you before he saw to his own needs. Do I have that right?”
“Well, yes, I suppose…”
Daisy frowned. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. What he was saying made sense, but thenhe’dbeen both rough and desperate, gentle and selfless, when they’d been together at the inn. Andhedidn’t love her. He was simply an accomplished lover.
“It’s… complicated,” she muttered.
His lips curled in a look that was half amused, half resigned. “It is indeed. I hope you’re not telling me it’s all down to some mystical feminine instinct. Because if that’s the case, what hope does a man have?”
Daisy glared up at him. Why was he so determined to have a deep, meaningful conversation on the essence of love right here, in the corridor, at midnight? There were other, far more enjoyable, things they could be doing instead.
“Can’t this discussion wait until morning?”
His eyes darkened. “Am I keeping you from your tryst with the leftover crème brûlée? Or is there something else you’d rather be doing?”
Daisy stepped forward so her breasts brushed his chest. “You are the most aggravating man, Lucien Vaughan.”
“You’re not the first person to make that observation.”
She grabbed the lapels of his dressing gown. “Just so you know, we arenotengaged. I haven’t agreed to marry you.”
“Understood.”
“I haven’t made my mind up yet.”
“You will.”
She ignored the ambiguity of that remark. “That said, I have no objection to you giving me another demonstration of what it’s like to bed a man who doesn’t love me.”
“A scientific study?” he growled. “For comparison?”
She licked her lips and his hungry gaze followed the move. “Exactly.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, as if she’d said something to annoy him, but his expression was pure wickedness as he loomed over her. “Oh, sweetheart, I am more than happy to oblige. Your room, or mine?”