Page 41 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

“After the unnatural things that happened to me in Paris, I would like a kind and faithful lover.” I have it on good authority, despite having been brutally used, that I can still want that from a man who loves me as I love him.

“But others can be persuasive. Men will want you. Men who have spent their youths learning how to charm a woman and seduce her with compliments and kisses.”

Compliments from him were what she wanted. Kisses from his lips were the ones she craved. “I don’t want seduction. And as for kisses”—she paused and admired his hair, his jaw, his shoulders, and his stern, beautiful mouth—“I will decide whom I kiss.”

He looked weary and shook his head. “You do not understand. London is crammed with hordes of ambitious bachelors with matrimony their best means to fill their empty pockets.”

Cool as ice, she smiled and said, “I will fend them off.”

“Chouchou, you need an education about who is acceptable. Who is honorable.”

“You are acceptable. You are honorable.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I am not a man who will court you.”

That pierced her to her heart. “You are not attracted to me?”

“Zeph, I am fifteen years older than you.”

“That does not answer my question.”

He winced. “I am not marriageable material.”

“Is that why you have not married and you are…what? So very ancient?” She tsked at him like an unamused governess. “In all those years, what have you done for female companionship?”

He scoffed. “None of your business.”

“I have seen no women come here. Which means you go out for a bit of fun.”

“Stop this.”

She fumed, hands to her hips. “What are you saying to me?”

“I cannot educate you about…about Society and men. I know a different sector of London Society. Politics. You will be in the pure social realm. I cannot advise you on whose invitation to accept or what man to favor.”

“Then don’t.”

“Zeph, I will win this argument.”

She rose and strolled toward him.

He stiffened. He would build a wall of rock to stand against her.

She approached him and held him with the power of her gaze.

Suddenly, she had one hand around his neck, one on his cheek, and her lips…her lips were a breath away from his.

He cupped the points of her shoulders. “This is—”

“Not wise,” she murmured, and brushed her lips across his.

He clamped shut his eyes. “We are friends.”

The moments ticked by like an hour.

“Are we?” she whispered.

His fingers dug into her flesh. “You must go live with Gus and Ashley. You will not need a companion, either.”