Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 3

Anne was silent for a long while before speaking. When she did, her hands pulled away from his, severing their contact.

"I am sure you've heard about my father."

"I have," Cedric said softly. "He was a good man, and I do not say that about most men of my acquaintance. You have my deepest sympathies and condolences."

Pain lanced through him, sharp and sudden behind his ribs. His own parents' coffins being lowered into twin graves. His two little sisters clutching his arms on either side, their cherubic faces stained with tears. Those were memories he did not want, memories he fought every day to keep buried.

"Thank you." Her voice was steady, but he knew how strong Anne was and it made him proud of her. At the same time, he wanted to draw her close and whisper soft, sweet things in her ear, to comfort her.

That shocked him. Since when was he the sort of man to comfort? He was a rakehell, a seducer and rogue of the worst sort. Not one who cuddled a woman to his body.

"It is actually his death which has brought me to you."

"Oh? I can't imagine how..."

"If you forgive me for my bluntness, my lord, the truth of the matter is that I need to marry. My father's death has left me wealthy and unfortunately more of a target for the fortune hunters of the ton than I would have liked."

He didn't miss the tinge of desperation in her voice. As long as he'd known her, she'd always shied from the public eye, and the burden of being an heiress must have been a great one.

"And what has this to do with me?" Cedric asked. Surely she didn't think...it was too much to hope that she would ask him to court her again.

"I need a husband, and most of the eligible men seeking a bride are not what I would ever consider to be suitable matches. I came here...hoping that perhaps..." Her hands grasped his, and the action startled him, but he kept calm and gently held on to her.

What did she hope? His chest tightened. "Speak your mind, Miss Chessley," Cedric demanded, perhaps a little too strongly. Her grip on his hands loosened, and his hands dropped into his lap.

"Perhaps this was a mistake. I shouldn't have bothered you," Anne muttered apologetically. He heard her rise to leave.

Cedric stood with her and reached blindly in her direction, hoping to catch her wrist to halt her. Instead his hand curled around the flare of a womanly full hip. Rather than release her, he dug his fingers in, just hard enough to halt her escape. A startled gasp came from the sudden contact.

"Tell me what you came to say, please," he half-pleaded, not wanting her to go.

He'd spent so much time alone of late, which he'd thought he preferred given his condition. But Anne's company was welcome. It reminded him of better times, yet it left no sting of his lost sight. Rather it lit a fire in his blood, reminding him of the way he used to tease her and how she'd resisted him with her delightful verbal sparring. He restrained himself from a grin when she did not try to escape his hold.