Make Me Yours by Betina Krahn

Author:Betina Krahn [Krahn, Betina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-06-01T23:00:00+00:00

RELIEF ALLOWED Jack to chuckle at her expression. Then an internal barrier snapped and he joined her in shoulder-quaking laughs; the sort that dispel tension and remind people of their common ground in humor.

He hadn’t laughed like this in—well, in a very long time.

Weakened, she leaned against him. It seemed only natural to put an arm around her in support, and for the next few moments he gave himself over to the pleasure that migrated into him through that contact. His blood warmed as something new and precious unfolded around his heart.

Her eyes shimmered with moisture as she looked up, and he reached into his breast pocket, intending to offer her his handkerchief. Instead, he found himself dabbing her eyes. His other hand came up to cup her warm cheek and he stared down into dark-centered blue pools filled with genuine pleasure. A surge of protectiveness washed over him.

“Did you really get his name from the earl of Chester?” she asked.

He nodded, grappling with the strength of this new feeling.

“Though, I believe he did say it was his son’s recommendation.” He looked back at the doors of the Quill and Scroll. “The little sod. Probably had a good laugh handing over the name of his toothless old tutor.”

“Well, I had a good laugh, too, so I won’t hold it against him. Or against you. Though, I confess, I am losing all faith in this list of yours.”

“I had no idea, Mariah,” he said. “I was asked to solicit names from among the prince’s intimates and I…trusted their judgment.”

She winced as if she were about to confess a mortal sin.

“Heaven help me, I believe you.”

He offered her his arm as they began to walk and he set a leisurely pace that seemed perfect for the cool autumn night. Together they wound their way in companionable silence along the cobblestone streets beneath gas lamps that cast circles of soft golden light.

“That’s three out of four,” she said, pulling him back to the reality of yet another failed husband prospect.

“Three out of bloody four,” he echoed.

“So, what happens if I fail to marry in the next eleven days?”

He felt his gut tense and mouth dry in spite of himself.

“There is still one name on the list,” he said. Not that he expected the last candidate to be much different from the others. Not that he wanted that candidate to be different. He felt a peculiar weight against his chest and sent a hand to the envelope in his inner pocket. The damned license never let him forget for a minute that she was meant for someone else.

“Why should I believe he will be any more suitable? One was spoken for. Another was a mean-spirited bully.” She displayed the count on her fingers. “And the third was a feckless little squab with deplorable dental hygiene. I could do better standing in a town square yelling for volunteers.”

“You can’t cry off—I’ve already paid your blessed mortgage.”

“I didn’t say I was crying off. I just think it’s time for a different approach, that’s all.

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