Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

pronoun, not meaning it would be a cooperative decision.

"We'll see?" Brushing her skirts down in a sharp decisive smoothing of silk and petticoats, she leaned forward, her fine chin firmed pugnaciously. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Not since I met you."

His response was so calm, so soft, so damnably unruffled, Daisy immediately altered the tenor of her arguments. She was not currently in a position of strength—in Etienne's carriage with his driver taking them to Colsec. "Look," she said, attorney-like and reasonable, "let's negotiate some common ground here."

"Such as?"

His voice held a hint of amusement, annoying and provoking, but Daisy had experience in mediated settlements and ignored the provocation. "Such as agreeing on some period of time amenable to us both."

The Duc laughed then, but smiled his winning smile in appeasement. "Period of time?" he said. "Really?" Gazing at her for a thoughtful moment, he decided he must have her forever or die in the attempt—an irrational and totally out-of-character decision for the man known throughout the civilized world as a passionate but impermanent lover. "I don't negotiate," he quietly said, "but ifI did, I'd say something like the second millennium beyond forever."

"Be serious, Etienne. I'm not in the mood to be amused."

"And I really don't negotiate, darling. I'm not joking."

"Is this an abduction?"

"I don't think so, but it could be. I'm flexible."

"I'm not going to fall into your arms like… all the rest."

"You are, darling, so far removed from… all the rest… it's beyond comprehension… believe me." His words were so quiet they barely reached her across the small distance separating them. And straightening in an abrupt, restless movement, he reached out to unlatch the window curtain nearest him. The fine leather shade rolled up with a sharp springing snap, the silk tassel vibrating in a flash of black brilliance.

"Etienne…"

He didn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear her, for her voice was very low, or maybe he was actually engrossed in the view out the window.

"I don't know what to do…"

He must have heard her because he turned his head very slowly toward her, as if reluctant to leave the vision of Garches coming into sight. He sighed softly. "Then that makes two of us," he said.

"I want more than your undivided attention for a few hours, or were you deeply committed, perhaps a few days… or what?"�Her dark eyes were solemn—"a few weeks? You see, I've heard everything."

"I won't apologize for my life, and even if I were so inclined, it wouldn't change anything. I'd like to be able to give you guarantees. With anyone else, I'd lie and give those promises. You can see how addled I've become because I can't, and worse yet, am honest about it. I can say this though, if it helps—you are a breath of freshness and beauty in my life, you're a joy I hadn't known existed. I am for the first time in my life unconditionally happy when I'm with you. I want this feeling to last forever, I want you forever. But the world's made me cynical or perhaps I've made myself cynical… In any event, I can only say… I'd be pleased to do whatever I have to do to keep you."

He sounded like a young boy asking his first dance partner for her hand in a waltz, so full of deference and politeness was his tone, and Daisy was nonplussed for a moment at his stark and abject sincerity. An instant later she found herself scrutinizing his face. Was he only more adept than she at the mendacities of se-duction, more familiar with the right tone for the right occasion and woman? Was he simply living up to his reputation for finesse?

"I'm not normally callow or naive."

He smiled at her words because she was the most intelligent woman he knew.

"Yet I find myself wanting to believe whatever you say."

Any number of smooth and charming responses came immediately to his mind for he recognized a degree of capitulation, however understated, but he said instead a simple, "Good," because she was too important to his existence to stoop to facile charm. And he was too uncertain of his composure to risk a seductive reply.

"Good? Nothing more from Paris's most fluent ladies' man?" Her gaze was critically assessing, touched slightly too with pique. His simple response struck her as too assured. "Don't I at least deserve—"

"Daisy, please." Soft remonstrance touched his voice with unmistakable need.

Her anger drained away and Daisy's eyes met his in a staggering moment of revelation. "This isn't a game for you this time, is it?" she whispered, filled with an inexplicable joy and fear. Already he meant too much to her. How much of her heart did she dare lose to a man of his repute, a man whose name alone was a byword for profligacy?

"No."

"I'm afraid then."

"I can change that." His eyes were sorceror-green seduction.

"It's too easy for you. I know you can, but I'm more practical, Etienne. I want a future beyond your bedroom."

He didn't know what to say. He did too. But he'd only very recently recognized that fact and his thoughts hadn't fallen into any practical rationale capable of dealing with his marriage. "I'll talk to Charles."

"About what, Etienne? Good God, as if he doesn't know more than I'd like already."

"About a divorce."

Her shock showed, but an instant later reality interposed. "Do I look that green?"

Equally shocked himself, he took a moment to absorb the full impact of his words. And a moment more to realize he meant them. And a further moment to understand he owed Isabelle the courtesy of being spoken to first. "No, darling, no one would mistake you for a green child." Smiling now, he felt strangely elated at a decision he should have made years ago.

"Are you sober, Etienne?" Suddenly she questioned whether liquor might account for his startling behavior. She barely knew him, outside their passionate two days together. His family was as old as France itself, Isabelle's too; their marriage of long standing. The Duc de