Page 82 of The Earl's Reluctant Artist

He frowned. “Are you certain? You look troubled.”

“I am fine.”

“You do not look fine.” He moved closer. “You look as if there is something you want to say but will not.”

She shook her head. “There is nothing. It is only this whole matter. It worries me.”

He moved nearer until there was almost no space between them. The bed dipped with his weight, and for a moment, he only looked at her profile, especially the way the firelight caught faintly on her cheek.

Something about the sight of her this close to him tugged at something in his heart. Something he couldn’t stop fast enough.

Oh, I am going to regret this.

Without fully thinking it through, he reached out and took her hand. Her eyes flicked down at once. The touch surprised her. It surprised him, too, but he did not release her.

“Eliza,” he said, his voice low, “if there is something you wish to say, you may. You can trust me.”

She drew in a slow breath.

“Arranged or not,” he continued, “you are still my wife.”

Her lips parted, and she turned her face toward him. Their eyes met, and neither of them looked away. It was almost like they couldn’t.

“You say that,” she whispered, “but do you really mean it?”

“Yes,” he responded, his thumb brushing gently against her knuckles. “I mean it.”

Her chest rose with another breath. “And if I did speak, would you listen? Truly listen?”

“I would.”

Her gaze lingered on him, steady now, searching. “You are not what I expected,” she said quietly.

“And what did you expect?”

“A man who would never look at me like this,” she admitted.

He almost smiled. “And yet I do.”

They stayed like that with their hands still joined.

“Eliza,” he said again, his voice softer this time.

“Yes?”

“I want…” He stopped himself, but the words hung in the air.

Her lips curved faintly. “You want what?”

He leaned toward her. She did not move back. Her eyes lowered briefly, then rose to his again.

The space between them narrowed even more, and her breath brushed against his. His heart beat hard

in his chest, and for once, he did not think of duty or land or projects. He thought only of her.

She tilted her head, almost like she was waiting.

He moved closer.