“She had always thought that she wanted someone to love her beyond all reason. Someone who would slay a regiment of knights to save her the slightest inconvenience. She'd been wrong. That sort of fool left nothing but a swath of bloody knights in his wake.”

“For years, every conversation she had with a man had been colored by calculation. Would she put him off is she spoke her mind? What did he want her to say? When a man took a mistress, he purchased not just the rights to her body, but the content of her thoughts. Sir Mark wanted her as she was, not as he wished her to be. The thought made her head hurt.”

“Mrs Farleigh," he called. She stopped and gave him her shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. Still wary, and that made him angrier yet. "I want you to trounce me."Her head snapped up. "Pardon?""It is down to you and me. We are battling it out, to see who will be king of the indifferent shots in this competition. Only one of us will prevail.I shall shoot to win." He really was angry, he realized - furious to imagine her spending her autumns deliberately hiding what she could do, hiding the extent of her ability from the man who should treasure it. It was as if she'd left a vast swath of her ability unclaimed, hidden behind a swirl of feminine smiles. He didn't like the idea. He didn't like it at all.”

“You've always been your own knight, riding to your rescue. I'm just the man who came along and saw how brightly your armor shone.”

“She wanted never again to have to fill another man's bed, telling falsehoods with her body until her mind could no longer track her own desires. She wanted to rid herself of the murk and the mire that had filled her. This life had bound her as effectively as if she were a falcon tied by a leather shackle, and she wanted to be free.”

“And then he lifted his eyes from the chair to his bed. If this was his imagination, his imagination was glorious. Margaret lay on his coverlet, stretched out full length. She still wore a corset and petticoats, but they’d been hiked up so that he could see where her garters tied at the knees. She crooked one finger at him and smiled.“Margaret. What are you doing here?”“I,” she said, “have been procuring my future.”His mind went blank. He didn’t know how to take it. She’d decided to have him, after all. She’d realized she didn’t need him, not one bit. His head pounded. His heart swelled in a mix of hope and despair.“I want you.”Hope. Hope. It was all hope. He took a careful step towards her.“Wait. There’s a condition.”“You know,” Ash said, his throat closing, “that if you are half-naked on my bed, all conditions will be met. Instantly.”“Ah, but this is one of the conditions I did not deliver to Lord Lacy-Follett earlier today.”If he’d been overwhelmed by her appearance before, he was stunned now. “You talked to Lacy-Follett? You cannot be serious.”“Oh, but I am. I had to renegotiate, after I’d heard what you had done. I had been so blinded by my loyalty to my brothers that I could not see that I owed loyalty to you, as well. I was wrong. I love you, Ash.”He swallowed.She smiled up at him. “I love that you make me feel as if I’m the only woman in the world. I love that you’ll always be there for me.” She sat up on the bed, and her petticoats fell, so that only her toes peeked out at him from underneath those layers of fabric. “I want to paint my own canvas, Ash. And I want you on it with me.”Delicately, she stretched out one leg. Her foot flexed, and then her toes found the floor. He was helpless. Just seeing her push to her feet got him hard. And seeing her in his room—on his bed—made every part of him reverberate with the rightness of it.”

“Her fingers clenched against his shoulder blades. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”“Do I not?” He threaded his hands gently around her neck. “I’m asking you to make love with me.”That word again. She opened her eyes. “Gareth,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t. This is hard enough—”She stopped speaking as his gaze pierced her.Incredible. Last night had seemed so intimate. And yet ithad been so dark that she had not been able to see anything other than flashes of light, reflecting off the surfaceof his skin. Now she could look into his eyes. They were golden-brown. They were not cutting or dismissive. Andeven though she could see the desire smolder inside them, there was something else in them that turned her belly to liquid.”