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his bare chest.

Christopher shifted to loom over her. He slowly bent his head, but it was Emma who reached out and drew his lips to hers.

Yes. This is exactly how he wished to spend every morn.

Tearing his mouth away from hers, he ground out, “We need to agree upon a date.”

“A date for wot?” Emma pulled back and frowned at him.

“Our wedding.”

She rubbed her eyes and narrowed her gaze. “Did I say I’d marry ye?”

“You agreed to my terms.”

“But we didn’t…” She lifted up the sheet and looked about. Sheet raised back up to her chin, she repeated, “But we didn’t…” Emma wagged her prettily shaped eyebrows at him.

“I clearly stated that if you shared my bed for the eve, we were to be married.”

“Nay.” She shook her head and then, with a fierce look of determination, said, “We were to wed only if ye took me innocence.”

“I don’t believe that is what I said.” He tilted her chin up so he could stare directly into her eyes. “Shall we agree to two weeks from today?”

She raised up onto an elbow and muttered something that sounded like bloomin’ brilliant barrister, but he couldn’t be sure for his attention was focused on rose-colored nipples that peeked over the edge of the sheet. She tugged at the linens once more.

“I never said I’d marry ye.” Emma scooted away and jumped down from the bed. She wrapped the fine white bed linen tightly about her and searched the room for her garments.

“I’ll tell you where your clothes are as soon as you give me an acceptable date.”

“I told ye I’d help ye pick out a suitable wife.”

“I want you.”

“Why?”

It was a valid question. But how was he to explain what he instinctually knew was right?

He was a bloody barrister. He was supposed to be able to come up with arguments at a moment’s notice. Instead of a carefully crafted proposition, he spoke from the heart. “Because from the moment you bumped into me dashing away from Landon’s townhouse, my mind and body have been drawn to you. It’s as if you dislodged something within me.”

Emma stilled and turned. A small grin appeared before she crossed her arms and let out a loud Hmph.

She was pleased with his answer, despite her body language. He pressed on. “And there is the added benefit that if you marry me, you can enact the clause in Hereford’s will that enables you to decline the rather large settlement he has generously provided for you.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide. Her hands dropped to her sides then were firmly planted on her perfectly rounded hips. “Ye’re sayin’ I can refuse the blunt if I git hitched.”

He nodded. “Aye.”

She tilted her head and stared at him for a moment. “Hmph.” She slowly spun in a circle. A small grin appeared. “Where did ye put me clothes?”

He nodded in the direction of the connecting room. “I hung your dress in my changing chamber.”

She walked soundlessly to the dark room.

He wanted to follow her, but he was struggling to formulate an articulate answer as to why she should marry him. Christopher hopped from the bed and began to pace. He needed her to agree to wed him. He wanted to have her back in his bed. He was going about matters all wrong. Why should she marry? She was independent and resourceful. She had no need for a man except that the only place she had appeared at peace was lying naked next to him.

He was a reasonable man. If she needed more time to recognize the benefits of becoming his wife, he’d be patient. He’d court her and show her how they complemented each other. Mayhap he’d draft provisions in the marriage agreements for her to retain control over her own funds. Damnation. He wouldn’t be able to lawyer his way into marriage. His stomach clenched. He needed her. He’d have to convince her of their suitability. He didn’t want her leaving his house without having her word that she’d marry him. His desire for her as wife was more than pure lust. He just didn’t know what to name this burning desire to have her near at all times.

A few minutes later Emma reappeared, dressed, her hair held back by one of his blue silk cravats and wearing a look of pure determination. She had made up her mind. His heart pounded with anticipation.

She marched to stand before him and rested her hands on his waist. Head tilted up, she said, “I’ll be busy fillin’ orders for Bronwyn’s ball this week. And I need another two to be ready. Will ye agree to three weeks?”

Why was she agreeing?

Uncertain if he wanted the answer, he said, “Yes. I shall visit your father today and have the license and agreements drawn up immediately.” He reached out to cup her face. “I promise to be a good husband.”

“Shall we seal our agreement with a kiss?”

Her wicked grin tempted him like nothing else. He replied, “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Her hands slid up his chest, dislodging his hands from her face. Rolling up onto her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. With her soft curves pressed into him, Christopher ran a hand down her spine until it came to rest on the curve of her bottom while his other hand threaded through her hair and guided her mouth to his. He kissed her softly.

Emma released a moan and opened for him as his tongue poked out to taste her. Pulling back for air, she inhaled deeply. She rested her forehead upon his chest. She whispered, “I best be off.”

He didn’t want her to leave him, but he’d garnered her promise to marry. He released his hold on her. She stepped back and gave him a wink. “Me dad comes to me shop every day around a quarter to eight.” Swiveling on her heel, she made her way to the door.

He followed behind but pressed a hand against the door, delaying her departure.

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