Page 23 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

“That’s not—”

“That is entirely true, and I’m glad of it,” Leo said frankly, before she could contradict him. “For otherwise some other lucky devil would have snapped you up before I came to my senses, and then where should I be?”

She gave him a sideways glance, clearly still disbelieving him but he thought perhaps there was a sliver of doubt there now and… and she wanted to believe him. The revelation hit him square in the chest. He’d been right. Damn him, he was a blasted fool, but despite that, he’d been right all those weeks ago when he’d accused her of not wanting to marry anyone else but him. She didn’t want anyone else; she wanted him. She wanted him, he amended, repeating the words with more emphasis as he recalled that heated kiss. His body stirred, heat simmering beneath his skin, and he told his libido to back off and let him think. He would not mess this up.

She might want him, might even be foolish enough to wish to marry him, but she wasn’t fool enough to go through with it. Vi didn’t trust him, and if he went bedding her now, taking that which could never be replaced, she never would. Yet ought he to trust that she knew her own mind? She was a grown woman, after all, not a child. If Vi had come to this decision, ought he to respect that? His thoughts circled in ever decreasing circles until his head hurt.

“Pie?”

“Huh?”

He looked up to see Vi had cleared the plates and chafing dish and set the apple pie in its place.

“Oh, yes, thank you.”

“Do you have a headache?” she asked him, a small frown tugging at her brows.

He looked up in surprise, wondering how she knew.

“You get a sort of pinched look when you have a headache,” she said with a shrug. “Shall I send for some willow bark tea?”

Leo shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Is it me?” she asked, candid as ever.

“Is what you?”

“It is me giving you a headache?”

He laughed at that and nodded. “Yes, pet. If you must know. I’m tying myself in knots, trying to decide what to do about you.”

“Thought as much,” she said, taking up the cream pot and putting a large dollop on his pie, and then the same on hers.

He watched with approval, discovering he liked that she enjoyed her food. Watching a young woman pick at her meal when she was clearly dying to devour the lot was never comfortable when you were enjoying your own dinner.

“Why don’t we discuss it, then?” she suggested.

Leo watched as she took a spoonful of pie and ate it with obvious relish. He lifted his glass and took a drink, wondering if that were a good idea. Well, what the hell? It was not like he had any answers.

“Very well. I am trying to decide what to do, as I said.”

“Whether or not to take me to bed?” she said, shocking him a little, for that was certainly to the point.

Gathering his nerves as he reminded himself Vi was not someone to cross wits with lightly, he nodded. “I want you to marry me, Vi,” he said, holding up a hand before she could tell him such a thing would never happen. “Hear me out.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Very well.”

“I want to marry you. If I bed you, I’m not sure if that will get me farther from that eventuality or closer to it.”

“Neither,” she said with such confidence that he felt a little surge of annoyance.

“You do not know of what you speak,” he told her firmly.

“I know my own mind,” she said with a shrug, and took another bite of pie.

“You do at this moment, sitting at a table eating dinner. You may not feel so sure of yourself, my love, lying naked in my arms once I have brought you more pleasure than you ever dreamed of.”

To his satisfaction, she froze, the spoon bearing her next mouthful suspended before her. Colour rose in her cheeks, pink as a new dawn.