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Her expression softens slightly.

My groin tightens in response.

Damn…she’s beautiful.

But no.

I can’t think like that. Ella Hart isn’t for me. I’ve been tailored since birth to marry for reasons other than love. A daughter from an allied family. A woman with the proper bloodlines, proper education, proper connections. Someone who understands that marriage is another form of merger and affection is a luxury, not a requirement.

I never really cared one way or another. I’ve bedded my share of women, and never have I had the desire for anything more than the physical.

Until now, with Ella Hart standing in my study, looking at me like I might be better than I am.

No.

I check my watch. “I arranged for one of my mother’s dresses to be sent to your room. Have Hazel alter it if necessary. I’ll make sure Audrey understands both of you are unavailable for regular duties.”

“Hazel will love that.”

“Audrey won’t.”

“No.” Ella smiles, and this one is genuine. “She really won’t.”

“Excellent.”

Her smile falters into something uncertain. “And the makeup artist?”

“I’ll send her to your room. Also a hairstylist and manicurist. They should arrive around five thirty. Then I’ll pick you up.”

“You’re picking me up?”

“At seven.”

“Oh.”

Such a small word and spoken so softly. It shouldn’t affect me the way it does.

I take her hand before I can talk myself out of it.

Her breath catches.

Mine nearly does too.

I press my mouth to the back of her hand. Her skin is warm beneath my lips. She smells like soap with something floral underneath. “Until tonight, Ella.”

She nods and walks toward the door.

Damn.

My blood is hot. My pulse is racing. My cock is hard.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Get a grip. When I open them, Ella is gone.

9

ELLA

The back of my hand burns where Nathaniel Vexley kissed it.