Chapter Fifty
Chantelle was just about to extinguish the last lamp in her room when the door burst open. “She’s in love with Marshall!”
Chantelle jumped, startled, even though she recognized that voice before she saw him. The very reason she was going to bed so early, just so she wouldn’t have to think of him anymore. And more annoying, he was all smiles as he stood there waiting for her to say something.
Despite herself, she asked, “Who is?”
“Caroline.”
She stiffened. “Well, good for her.”
He ignored her peevish tone and closed the space between them to draw her into his arms. “You don’t understand, love. We can get married now.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Chantelle, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” she retorted and pushed away from him, furious that he should ask her now. “I’ve heard the story, Derek. Your grandfather wants you married and you don’t care who as long as you please him. Well, no, thank you. I don’t care to be second choice now that your first one has deserted you.”
He had expected her to be as delighted as he was.
It infuriated him that she wasn’t. “Dammit, you have never been second and you know it! Is it my fault that I was already committed when I met you? Caro is one of my best friends and always has been. How could I break off with her if I thought she would be hurt by it?”
“It was all right to hurt me, though, wasn’t it? It was all right to rip out my heart and trample all over it with your miserable suggestion that I be your mistress!”
“Do you think I would have loved you any less in that position?” he shouted back.
“What?” she asked, stunned.
“You heard me! How else was I to keep from losing you?”
Her eyes blazed when she realized she had obviously misunderstood him. That was all he was worried about, that he wouldn’t have the use of her body anymore. How could she have thought otherwise, even for a moment?
“Why am I even arguing with you? I’ve given you my answer. Now will you kindly get out of my room?”
He started to do just that, he was so angry with her. He got as far as the door and stopped. He had left the damn thing open. He closed it now and turned back toward her. If feelings counted for nothing, maybe logic would succeed.
“You need a husband, Chantelle.”
“The devil I do.”
“Have you forgotten your guardian?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What about him?”
“The only way you can get out from under his rule is to marry.” That wasn’t exactly true. He had already talked to his solicitor about the options she had available to her, but he wasn’t about to tell her that now. “Or did you intend to hide from him until you came of age?”
“Why not? It was what I had planned to do before I got influenced by a vacation in Barikah.”
He hated it when she got sarcastic. “Don’t you want the pleasure of kicking him out of your house?”
“Not enough to put up with you for the rest of my life.”
Derek gritted his teeth. “Why the bloody hell are you being so stubborn about this? You love me. I love you. There is nothing to prevent our getting married now. That is what people usually do when they—”
“All right.”
“What?”
“All right, you have convinced me.”
It took him a moment to realize she was smiling at him. He approached her again, slowly this time.
“Was it that bit about having to stay out of circulation?”
“No.”
“Was it the part about kicking your cousins out?”
“That was a nice thought, but no.”
She was grinning now. When he made no move to embrace her, she took matters into her own hands, slipping her arms around his neck. He was the one to resist now.
“Wait a minute—”
“Shh.” She began nibbling at his chin. “Have you forgotten so soon how easily passion can flare between us?”
“So that’s it? All you want is my—”
“Silly man. All I wanted was your love. All you had to do was tell me.”
He turned the tables on her, grabbing her hips to press them into his own. “I thought I was always quite demonstrative in that area.”
“I didn’t mean that!”
“Didn’t you?” he teased. “What about this?” And he captured her lips until her legs gave out from under her.
“That was always nice,” she said breathlessly, “but I wanted the words.”
“Silly woman.” He gave her back her own words. “I knew you loved me. Why weren’t you as intuitive? If I didn’t love you, would I have put up with your willfulness, your temper, your jealousy?”
“I was never jealous!” she retorted.
“Of course not.” His chuckle was warm and caressing. “Are you sure you want the words, love? You’re going to hear them so often you’ll be begging for mercy.”
“That’s what you think. We know who always ends up begging for mercy, don’t we?” But then she sighed, holding him close, so happy she could barely stand it. “Oh, Derek, I love you so much. How soon can we be married?”
He grinned at her impatience. “Not until morning, at least. I have other plans for tonight.”
“Do you, my lord? So do I, now that you mention it.” And she brought his lips back to hers.