“There are rules,” he interrupted, scowling. Before she could move, he had both her hands in his, theirfaces inches apart. “Don’t put me off, Phillipa. I’ve given you my one warning; I am after you. If you wishme to proceed your way, I will. To a point. But if you continue throwing up that damned—blasted—‘youcan’t do that’ protest and still look at me with that same…passion in your eyes, I will put you back in thatphaeton and not stop driving until we reach Gretna Green. Is that clear?”

“Come below for a moment. Please.”“Zephyr, I don’t have time t—”“Bradshaw, do me the courtesy of at least looking at me when I’m talking to you, or I shall punch you in the nose.”His lean jaw twitched, but he folded his arms across his chest and faced her. “What is it, then?”She took a deep breath. This would have been so much easier in a more intimate setting and if he wasn’t glaring at her. “Shaw, I just wanted to say—that is, I mean—I . . . I love you.”Something crossed his expression so swiftly that she couldn’t decipher it. But then he very obviously scowled. At her. “You’re only saying that now because I bullied you into it.”Oh, that was enough of that. “Idiot. You have no idea how much considering I’ve been doing. And you have never bullied me into anything. I said I love you because I love you.”He hesitated again. “Very well. Thank you. Now you won’t have to worry that you drove me to my death if I don’t return.”Zephyr narrowed her eyes. “All you did was say you loved me and then run away. I’m standing here saying it back to you, and all you can do is try to make me into a liar. It’s your fault, for surprising me. I don’t keep a response to that sort of thing in my pocket, ready for use.”“I know that. And I said thank you.”

“Shaw grinned again, wishing mightily that he and she were alone by the fire. “I never claimed to be much of a gentleman. But whether you tote about a parasol or not, you are every inch a lady. Quite possibly the finest I’ve ever met.”“Goodness. If you continue saying such things, I’ll begin to think you’re smitten with me.” “I’d describe it more as being clubbed into submission,” he murmured, aware both that her palm had come to rest just over his heart, and that his men and the Mayfair mob across the fire pit could see it. “But yes, I am rather smitten with you.”

“Don’t cry,nyonda,” he murmured.Phillipa took a deep breath. “What does that mean, anyway? Nyonda?”His green gaze held hers. “It’s Swahili. It means ‘beloved.’” A small smile touched his mouth, and he brushed her cheek again. “You do know I love you, Phillipa. To an alarming degree.”

“I’m going to say a word, just for your general opinion and consideration,” he said, his light blue gaze touching hers.“I’m listening.”“Marriage.”Zephyr blinked. Had he actually just suggested a proposal? A marriage? With her? A thousand thoughts all flitted through her mind, none of them making any sense, but several of them centering on whether she was reading too much or too little into one blasted word. “I think”—she stumbled, backing away from him and toward the village—“that if you mean to ask a question, you should ask it. And you shouldn’t make it so stupidly ambiguous just on the chance that a negative response might embarrass you or wound your feelings.”“Is that so?” He stalked after her.“It is so. And another thing. Before you ask such a question, consider giving me—or whoever you intend on asking—a reason to say yes.”

“You've gone mad. What's driven you to this nonsense?""You have," he snarled. "You, with your pretty gray eyes and your smile and the way you speak your mind. The sound of your laugh, your tears when something makes you sad." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine anyone else who had ever made him feel the way he did when he was with her. Emptiness looked back at him. There wasn't anyone else. "You're the only woman I've ever… liked.”

“He lowered his head toward her, so she could feel his breath warm againsther skin, their mouths only inches apart. “You’re panting for it, aren’t you,Princess?” he murmured.”