Nicholas. Elizabeth Amber
to him.
Her scent had teased at him since she’d entered the room. It was of spring and new sky and of crushed blossoms and cool, shaded earth.
He shifted closer, wanting more.
Satisfaction zinged through his blood at her nearness, stiffening his cock. There was no doubt this time. Everything about her proclaimed her to be of ElseWorld heritage. In the way of the Faerie, her face and form were delicate and ethereal, her manner and movements graceful.
Stilling, he allowed himself to savor her, to bask in the joy of discovering the woman he would take to wife. The urge to claim her—to mate her here and now—swelled in him, taking him off guard. The need shouldn’t be so strong.
Several days earlier he’d traveled home, returning to Tivoli only yesterday. The sole purpose of his trip had been to take part in the Calling along with his brothers. It was possible to perform the ritual away from his estate, but when his mind and body were given over to the Change, he was vulnerable and preferred not to be among strangers.
When he spoke, Nick gave no clue as to what he’d been thinking. “You’re reluctant to sign. Why?”
Jane’s gaze darted to the door and then back to him. “You must know your offer comes as a surprise.”
“A happy one?” he inquired.
“In my aunt’s view, at least,” she replied with a tight smile.
“And in yours?” he asked.
“In my view,” Jane confided, “you are too fickle. At Villa d’Este, you were quite fixed on another young lady, as I recall.”
“Ah!” Something shifted in his eyes momentarily, making her wary. “I can’t explain my behavior the other day beyond saying that once you left the gardens, I realized a definite attraction in your direction existed. I apologize for the necessity of making formal arrangements for our marriage through your guardians. It’s done this way here in Italy.”
“It’s arranged in much the same way in England, as you must know. But even there, men and women learn something of one another before they marry.” She spread her hands in a gesture of confusion. “How can you want to wed someone you don’t know?”
“From what I have observed at your English balls, there is little interaction before an engagement. Women dress like flowers to attract men to their honey. A few dances, a very few words, and men soon find themselves husbands.”
“I wasn’t dressed to attract when we met.”
“How lucky for me then that I saw through your disguise.”
He was too glib. Annoyed, she tried to read his thoughts.
Nick felt her press at the gates of his mind. Her touch was purposeful but weaker than his will and easily blocked. No doubt this was not her strongest talent. Briefly he wondered what that would prove to be.
Concealment. It rolled from him in waves. Jane’s gaze shifted away. He wasn’t the only one concealing something.
“I sense some underlying reason for your suit of which you aren’t apprising me. Otherwise, why the rush?” she went on.
“It’s difficult for me to be away from my land for great stretches. I recently decided it was time to marry. Now, I’d like to get on with it,” he said.
“And any woman would adequately suit the position? Even one who tells fortunes in disguise for coin?”
“I have numerous requirements in a wife.”
“I’m interested to know what they are,” she snapped. “I bring you no title, no wealth, no land. I’m unremarkable.”
She had no idea how wrong she was. “I have sufficient titles, wealth, and land that I needn’t go seeking them in a wife. I only require an intelligent, well-bred lady of marriageable age who will bear my children.”
“Under your requirements, you would find hundreds of suitable ladies.”
He spread his hands, feigning regret. “Alas, the laws of Italy decree I cannot marry hundreds. I’ve chosen you.”
“But for all you know, I could be unchaste.” She leaned forward meaningfully. “Or a candidate for bedlam.”
“Are you?” he inquired.
She drew back. “I’d hardly reveal it if I were.”
He smiled, enjoying her. “It’s of no moment. Our contract allows me to annul our marriage on several counts, including those you mentioned. Come, unlike your aunt, I would not have you ignorant.” He drew her to sit at the desk. Leaning over her, he began to outline the meaning of each paragraph of the agreement in turn.
“Here I require you to accept the surname of Satyr rather than keeping that of your father, as would be customary in Italian marriages.”
His desire to stamp his name on his wife didn’t surprise her. But it was the least of her concerns.
“And here it says the marriage may be annulled for a number of reasons.”
“Voided, you mean?” she interrupted. “As though it had never existed?”
He nodded, and she marveled at his conceit in suggesting such an idea.
“As you see here,” he went on, enumerating the clauses, “I may petition for annulment in the event you prove not to be virginal.”
She blushed furiously at this, glad her bent head hid her reddened cheeks.
“Likewise,” he continued matter-of-factly, “I may do so if you deny me husbandly rights, prove unfaithful, or if you don’t produce an heir within a reasonable amount of time.”
“The latter is hardly fair,” she pointed out.
“But necessary. And, in the event of an annulment, I will of course provide a comfortable allowance for you.”
Hope rose within her. With such a settlement, she and Emma could be free. Able to live as independent women.
“Am I too plainspoken?”
“On the contrary,” she told him. “Your lack of subterfuge inspires trust.”
“Sufficient trust that you will agree to my proposal?” he murmured above her.
Jane stared at the words dancing across the page, her mind examining the choices open to her.
If they married, she would have access to his lands. On that ancient ground, plants such as moly might exist that could help her—help her sister—before it was too late. Definitely an argument in favor of wedding him.
But he would touch her. Could she keep herself from melding? He didn’t strike her as a man who would miss much of what she was. An argument against.
Still, he no doubt had business interests that would often take him from home. Perhaps he would spend so little time in her company he’d never notice his wife was an unnatural freak. A plus.
And he wasn’t Signore Nesta. A definite plus.
“Do you enjoy children?” Nick prompted, breaking into her thoughts. “More specifically, are you prepared to bear mine?”
She stood and slid from the desk and him. If she could be certain they wouldn’t share her taint, she would gladly bear his children. She would shower them with all the affection her family had denied her.
A few feet away, she turned, clasping her elbows with her hands.
“One cannot predict the likelihood or timing of heirs with any great certainty.”
Secrets flashed in his eyes. “Thus my inclusion of the clause. Make no mistake—the production of heirs is of paramount importance in my association with you. Should you prove unable or unwilling to provide them, I must have the freedom to form an alliance with