“Max . . .”
“Is that a yes?”
Taking a deep breath, she steeled her voice into something more businesslike. “I have conditions.”
The side of his mouth hitched, his expression soft as he rose to his full height. “Is that so?”
“I wish to keep this apartment. That way, I’ll have a place just for me when I need to get away.”
A muscle jumped his jaw, his dark gaze sparking as he studied her. “Is this about having a lover on the side? I won’t share you, Violet. Not with anyone.”
“I do not want another lover.” She thought of his first wife. “And if we marry, I won’t share you either.”
“Agreed.”
“That easily? Forgive my skepticism, considering your proclivity for lascivious behavior. Does the Duke of Ravensthorpe possess the ability for monogamy?”
“He does, if the woman in his life is you, with your clever brain and bold spirit. If you need to keep the apartment to retain a bit of your independence, then I’ll not complain.”
“Independence—and my photography. I’ll use it as a portrait studio.”
“As long as said portraits involve clothing.”
She stood and closed the distance between them, using a fingertip to trace the edge of his collar. Goose bumps appeared on his skin and she smiled up at him. “You are the only one allowed to pose for my nude portraits, Your Grace.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest. “Yes to the apartment. What else?”
“I want to try for children.”
His large body tensed. “No, Violet. I could not bear it if—”
“I am not your first wife.” She stroked his lapel, soothing him. “I’ll be fine. But I want a piece of you and a piece of me to live on, together, to make this world better a better place.”
“Goddamn it,” he said and shifted his gaze to the wall. “What if you die?”
“Death stalks us every day. I could choke on a fishbone at dinner and die. But I’ve spent my entire life watching, observing, never fitting in while waiting for something to happen, and I am tired of waiting. I want excitement and laughter, little feet running through the halls. Most of all, I want to see your face in our children.”
“Christ, Violet.” He bent to kiss her hard on the lips. “I suppose I’ll need to find the best doctors in this bloody country to watch over you, then.”
“Does that mean you agree to my conditions?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I? I will give you anything you want to get my ring on your finger.”
She nearly swayed, the exhilaration almost too much to bear. “Anything I want? Oh, the heady power of having the Duke of Ravensthorpe at my feet.”
“As long as you never leave me, I’ll lie at your feet anytime you like.”
The afternoon light played across the angles of his face and throat. Harsh and beautiful, he was hers, and she’d never tire of looking at him. “What about now? I like the idea of more nude portraits of you.”
Taking her hand, he slipped his ring onto her finger. Then he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a folded stack of photographs. She cocked her head. “Are those the pictures I took of you?”
“I thought I should return them to their rightful owner.” When she moved to take them, he lifted the stack far above her head. “With one condition.”
Crafty man. Of course he had his own condition. “Which is?”
“That you use them for their intended purpose while I watch.”
He wanted her to do that in front of him? “Now?”
“Right now.” His gaze burned with adoration and desire, but there was something else there, as well. Something new that was serious and far more meaningful.
He loves me.
Her skin could barely contain the joy coursing through her. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer and put her lips near his ear. “Yes, Your Grace.”
The End.