He blinked. “And that kiss last night?”
“Was an aberration!”
“And if I say it wasn’t?”
When she looked at him, all he could see, all he could sense, was suspicion; she didn’t understand why he was doing this. It was time to close in. “Our situation, correct me if I err, can be reduced to this. I say I want you in my bed—and you don’t believe I truly do. Is that correct?”
Madeline compressed her lips. She wished she could read what was going on in his oh-so-male mind, but she couldn’t, so she nodded; his statement was true enough.
“If you’re correct, then nothing will actually eventuate.” He was still sitting back in his chair, the epitome of a gentleman at his ease, except for his eyes, his piercing gaze. “If I’m not serious, I won’t actively pursue you—I’ll lose interest and turn my attention to something, or someone, else. If you’re correct, then I will, indeed, cease and desist, more or less as a matter of course.”
Having him put it like that, so simply and succinctly, made her wonder why she’d driven there in such a frenzy—why she’d spent the entire night talking herself into a panic.
She shifted to face him squarely; she could feel the tension that had driven her to that point draining from her.
Then his lips curved—and all that tension came flooding back.
“If, however, I’m correct, and I am sincerely attracted to you and truly do want you in my bed, then, to my mind, given our current situation, at the very least you should allow me the opportunity to prove that to you.”
She stared. How the devil had they got to this point?
“Do consider”—his voice took on a steely edge—“you have, in essence, questioned my word, certainly my honor. It would only be fair and reasonable for you to allow me to clarify the matter—to set you straight.”
No, no, no, no, no…but…she put a hand to her temple. Rubbed. Frowned. “Why—”
“Why should be obvious. All you need to answer is yes or no.”
She frowned harder. “Yes or no to what?”
He sighed as if she were a widgeon. “To whether you’ll allow—meaning you won’t throw unnecessary hurdles across my path—me to prove to you that my attraction to you is entirely real.”
She narrowed her eyes on his handsome—and as ever uninformative—face. He continued to speak of his outrageous suggestions as if they were commonplace matters. “What, specifically, do you mean by ‘prove’?”
His eyes widened; he paused as if considering the answer, then said, “I suppose I mean that you’ll allow me to seduce you.”
She refused, of course. At length, in various ways. But he wouldn’t budge. He continued to talk her around in circles, bringing her back again and again to his simple, straightforward, transparently reasonable points.
Until, driven to the limit of her endurance, with a headache pounding in her temples, she threw up her hands in defeat. “All right! I agree!” Whipping her gloves from h
er pocket, she started pulling them on, ignoring his measuring gaze.
“Just to be specific…?”
She gritted her teeth; she couldn’t clench her jaw more than it already was. “Specifically—I will permit you to try to seduce me. However”—gloves buttoned, she pinned him with a glance every bit as steely as any of his—“I do not guarantee to succumb.”
The damned man had the gall to smile, entirely genuinely. He rose. “Indeed. That wouldn’t be any fun.”
Fun? She nearly choked. Deciding words were not a weapon to use with him, she swung to the door. “I’m leaving.”
“So I see.”
Although she moved quickly, he was beside her when she reached the door. She paused to let him open it.
“Do give my regards to your brothers.”
He opened the door. She stepped forward, then hesitated.
As if he could hear the question in her mind, he said from behind her, “I haven’t heard anything more about their interest in the smugglers, or the wreckers—if I do, I’ll tell you.”