Free Heiress in Love by Christina Brooke

provoking man said nothing. He didn’t seem surprised by her revelation. Of course, he’d have to be a fool not to consider their marriage as a possible solution to the conundrum Frederick had tossed in their laps. And despite his complete lack of moral fiber, she sensed Constantine Black was no fool.
    She tried to read his face but it was maddeningly expressionless. He seemed determined to make this as difficult as possible for her.
    Only the need to keep Luke made her battle on.
    She took a deep breath, flushing with embarrassment. “Regardless of our … private feelings, I believe you and I must marry to make the estate whole again.”
    There was a startled pause. His eyebrows climbed. “Ah,” he said softly. “I am honored that so fair and genteel a lady would condescend to propose marriage to me.”
    Well, and so he should be! He had every bit as much to gain as she did by this alliance, didn’t he? And nothing at all to lose. He could take her fortune and play merry hell with it, continue to pursue his gaming and his mistresses and his whores and never count the cost. While she struggled to hold her head up and play lady of the manor and pretend her entire world hadn’t crumbled around her.
    She swallowed hard. “Of course, it would be a marriage of convenience between us. You must not imagine I expect you to alter your … habits, in the least.”
    “My habits?” The words were gently spoken, but there was a dangerous glint in his eye. “How generous of you. I am quite overwhelmed. Deeply flattered, in fact.”
    The words burst from her before she could check them. “Flattered! You are the last man on earth I would choose to marry. But I have no choice, it seems.”
    Anger blazed across his face, but it was gone in an instant, leaving him smooth-featured and smiling. She wasn’t fooled, however. His eyes were hard and brilliant as emeralds.
    “Well,” he said softly. “That has put me in my place, hasn’t it?”
    Jane flushed. An apology for her rudeness hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down. Waspishly, she said, “I suppose you think any lady must faint with delight at the thought of wedding you.”
    “Faint?”
    The smile deepened, but it still did not reach his eyes. He strolled toward her, so effortlessly powerful, his large body moving with grace beneath the fluid silk of his dressing gown. “Why, you’re practically swooning right now. Look at you, all pokered up and straitlaced with your tight little bun and your high-buttoned collar.” He stopped, inches from her. “And all that passion seething underneath.”
    She tried to slow her breathing, but it ratcheted up a notch with him so near. She smelled the sweetness of wine from his breath. Her gaze snagged on that intriguing line where his lapel met bare skin. The man’s sheer masculinity was overpowering.
    But she was not frightened of him, not at all. The heat that scintillated through her body had nothing to do with fear.
    Boldly defiant, she raised her eyes to his. Passion? Ha! What did he know of her desires? She had no interest in bedding him. None at all.
    He held her gaze and reached out to lift a lock of hair that had fallen from the knot at her nape. One broad fingertip brushed the skin at her jaw, leaving hot thrills in its wake. She felt the faint tug at her scalp as he sifted the curling tendril between finger and thumb.
    “Soft,” he murmured.
    A barrage of conflicting emotions assaulted her, confusing her sense of purpose. With a gasp, she pulled away. Jane turned her back on him, desperately groping for her lost composure.
    Jane bit her lip, striving to suppress the lingering quivers in her body. No one had ever touched her like that, not even Frederick. It was intimate. Far too intimate. She ought not to have allowed it.
    What could Constantine seek to gain by behaving thus? Did he think to frighten her with such tactics? Suddenly, his mocking words about seduction assumed a sinister aspect.
    He