piece of parchment in her hand.
“New orders come in?” He nodded to the note, relieved he wouldn’t have to account for his behavior.
“Not precisely.” She folded the paper, turned back to her dressing table, and began straightening her belongings. Earbobs and hairpins, her hairbrush; she handled each item nervously. “It is instructions for me only, as it would happen.” She looked at him over her shoulder.
She was so damned beautiful, and the intimacy of them here together only made it harder for him to keep his distance. Normally, when he stood in a bedchamber with a woman holding a hairbrush, one or both of them was nude.
“An assignment only for you?” He plucked the parchment from the table and unfolded it. The encryption took him a moment. How could they ask such a thing? He met her gaze. “You intend to follow through with this?”
For one heartbreaking moment, she met his gaze, and he saw torment in her eyes. He saw the fear and anxiety and something else as well. Maybe guilt. But she turned away from him and busied herself again with her trinkets. “It doesn’t appear that I have a choice in the matter.”
“Emma, you always have a choice,” he said. He put his hand on her upper arm, the contact of her bare skin against his palm tempting him to pull her close. She swayed toward him, just for an instant, and drew in a shuddering breath, like she was drawing strength from just that simple touch. “When you agreed to be a member of the Seven, did you even think this was an option? Did you sign up thinking you would be asked to seduce someone for information?”
She looked up at him, a frown marring her perfect features. “Of course not.”
“Then ask them to come up with another solution, or we’ll come up with one together.”
“Why?” But before he could answer, she wrenched herself away from him and paced to the far side of the room. When she turned around to face him, anger poured off her in waves. “Why should I have a choice when no one else does? Because I’m a woman?” She shook her head. “I knew going into this that there were more men in the Seven who didn’t think women belonged among them than there were those who accepted us. But you?” Her voice cracked. “I thought you were different. I thought you knew I was capable, that I could do this job as well as any man.”
“This isn’t about you being a woman,” he said, though he knew that was a lie. Of course it was; it was not acceptable for a woman to be asked to seduce a mark for information. “They’re asking too much of you.”
“If the assignment were reversed, if you were the one being asked to seduce a mark, would we even be having this conversation? I don’t think so.”
“That is not significant.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she turned away from him, bracing her hands on the table. “Answer me this, Emma. Do you want to follow through with this assignment?”
“Of course not,” she whispered. “But it was the assignment given. And I made a commitment.” She was quiet for several moments. “I cannot afford to lose this position.”
“Marry me,” he said, not even believing the words had come from him.
“What?” she whipped around. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened. Despite her normal self-reliance and steadfast independence, for once, he read vulnerability in her expression. As though she wanted him to rescue her.
Somehow in the midst of his impulsive proposal, he’d led her to believe he was in love with her. It was understandable, they had the physical attraction, but that meant nothing when it came to matters of the heart. He didn’t love Emma, hell, he didn’t even believe in romantic love. He desired her, and he obviously felt some sort of need to protect her, but none of that meant anything more. But suddenly, he was afraid she might love him and that her expectations for his proposal might be very different from his own.
“Marriage would be a sensible arrangement for
“New orders come in?” He nodded to the note, relieved he wouldn’t have to account for his behavior.
“Not precisely.” She folded the paper, turned back to her dressing table, and began straightening her belongings. Earbobs and hairpins, her hairbrush; she handled each item nervously. “It is instructions for me only, as it would happen.” She looked at him over her shoulder.
She was so damned beautiful, and the intimacy of them here together only made it harder for him to keep his distance. Normally, when he stood in a bedchamber with a woman holding a hairbrush, one or both of them was nude.
“An assignment only for you?” He plucked the parchment from the table and unfolded it. The encryption took him a moment. How could they ask such a thing? He met her gaze. “You intend to follow through with this?”
For one heartbreaking moment, she met his gaze, and he saw torment in her eyes. He saw the fear and anxiety and something else as well. Maybe guilt. But she turned away from him and busied herself again with her trinkets. “It doesn’t appear that I have a choice in the matter.”
“Emma, you always have a choice,” he said. He put his hand on her upper arm, the contact of her bare skin against his palm tempting him to pull her close. She swayed toward him, just for an instant, and drew in a shuddering breath, like she was drawing strength from just that simple touch. “When you agreed to be a member of the Seven, did you even think this was an option? Did you sign up thinking you would be asked to seduce someone for information?”
She looked up at him, a frown marring her perfect features. “Of course not.”
“Then ask them to come up with another solution, or we’ll come up with one together.”
“Why?” But before he could answer, she wrenched herself away from him and paced to the far side of the room. When she turned around to face him, anger poured off her in waves. “Why should I have a choice when no one else does? Because I’m a woman?” She shook her head. “I knew going into this that there were more men in the Seven who didn’t think women belonged among them than there were those who accepted us. But you?” Her voice cracked. “I thought you were different. I thought you knew I was capable, that I could do this job as well as any man.”
“This isn’t about you being a woman,” he said, though he knew that was a lie. Of course it was; it was not acceptable for a woman to be asked to seduce a mark for information. “They’re asking too much of you.”
“If the assignment were reversed, if you were the one being asked to seduce a mark, would we even be having this conversation? I don’t think so.”
“That is not significant.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she turned away from him, bracing her hands on the table. “Answer me this, Emma. Do you want to follow through with this assignment?”
“Of course not,” she whispered. “But it was the assignment given. And I made a commitment.” She was quiet for several moments. “I cannot afford to lose this position.”
“Marry me,” he said, not even believing the words had come from him.
“What?” she whipped around. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened. Despite her normal self-reliance and steadfast independence, for once, he read vulnerability in her expression. As though she wanted him to rescue her.
Somehow in the midst of his impulsive proposal, he’d led her to believe he was in love with her. It was understandable, they had the physical attraction, but that meant nothing when it came to matters of the heart. He didn’t love Emma, hell, he didn’t even believe in romantic love. He desired her, and he obviously felt some sort of need to protect her, but none of that meant anything more. But suddenly, he was afraid she might love him and that her expectations for his proposal might be very different from his own.
“Marriage would be a sensible arrangement for
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