by Jill Shalvis
“Please do. I’ve heard so much about your ready charm. I’m wondering how you’re going to ask.”
“I hadn’t planned on asking.”
“Because you never have to.”
He smiled. “To date at least.”
“So I may be the exception.”
“If you didn’t need an escort to Edinburgh,” he observed mildly. “Your move.”
“You see this as a game?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“And I’m the trophy or reward or how do young bucks describe a sportive venture like this?”
“How do young ladies describe the snaring of a husband?”
She laughed. “Touché. I have no need of a husband, though. Does that calm your fears?”
“I have none in that regard. Nothing could induce me to marry.”
“Then we are in complete agreement. Now tell me, how precisely does a libertine persuade a young lady to succumb to his blandishments?”
“Not like this,” he said dryly. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
“We strike our bargain first. Like you, I have much at stake.”
“Then, Miss Belvoir,” he said with well-bred grace, “if you would be willing to relinquish your virginity tonight, I’d be delighted to escort you to Edinburgh.”
“In the morning. Or later tonight if we can deal with this denouement expeditiously.”
“At week’s end,” he countered. “After the Spring Meet in Newmarket.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not acceptable.”
He didn’t answer for so long she thought he might be willing to lose twenty thousand. He was rich enough.
“We can talk about it at my place.”
“No.”
Another protracted silence ensued; only the crackle of the fire on the hearth was audible.
“Would you be willing to accompany me to Newmarket?” he finally said. “I can assure you anonymity at my race box. Once the Spring Meet is over, I’ll take you to Edinburgh.” He blew out a small breath. “I’ve a fortune wagered on my horses. I don’t suppose you’d understand.”
This time she was the one who didn’t respond immediately, and when she did, her voice held a hint of melancholy. “I do understand. My mother owned the Langley stud.”
“That was your mother’s? By God—the Langley stud was legendary. Tattersalls was mobbed when it was sold. You do know how I feel about my racers, then.” He grinned. “They’re all going to win at Newmarket. I’ll give you a share if you like—to help set you up in Edinburgh.”
Her expression brightened, and her voice took on a teasing intonation. “Are you trying to buy my acquiescence?”
“Why not? You only need give me a few days of your time. Come with me. You’ll enjoy the races.”
“I mustn’t be seen.”
Ah—capitulation. “Then we’ll see that you aren’t. Good Lord—the Langley stud. I’m bloody impressed. Let me get your luggage.”