But what if he had changed? a small voice whispered, nudging at the hope buried in her heart.

Her gaze crawled over his face, throat thickening, recalling the brief exchange she had overheard between him and his grandfather. Further evidence that a stranger stood before her. Not the duke she knew at all.

He had come. When he said he would not, he had come.

“Fallon,” he repeated her name, the tender emotion in his gaze wildly at odds with all those cool looks and wicked, empty smiles he’d given her in the past. She felt something unsafe unravel inside her. _Hope. _ Dangerous indeed for one who had no business feeling it.

“Don’t,” she murmured, afraid this time she could not walk away from him. Not again. Not when he looked at her with softness in his eyes. Not when, only moments ago, he had shown compassion she would never credit to him.

“I’m glad you came to see your grandfather. Truly I am.” She tried to slip between him and the pianoforte. “I should leave you to your visit—”

His arms came up, caging her in and stopping her. “You’re not running away again.”

“Dominic, you need time with your grandfather right now. I will just be in the—”

“I did not just come here for me, damn it.”

Fallon stopped breathing.

“I came here for you. For us. I need,” he said thickly, “you.”

She breathed again, perhaps for the first time in her life since her father died. She breathed, lived, drawing air deeply into her lungs.

He smiled, the grin loose, easy, even as a glimmer of anxiety flashed in his eyes. “Even my grandfather agrees with that.” His chest brushed the front of her gown and her ni**les peaked, hardened against the fabric. Hot mortification washed over her. “I need you, Fallon.”

She wet her lips. “I can’t do this. I won’t be your mistress—”

He smothered the rest of her words with his lips.

She whimpered, her hands pushing and pulling at the same time on his jacket. Everything flooded back with his kiss. His taste, his heat. The magic. Her tongue tangled with his as he bowed her over the pianoforte. She clutched his shoulders, fingers curling in his jacket, yearning, desperate, ready to climb _on _ him, _inside _ him.

She didn’t care at the hard wood digging into her spine. She cared only for him, for his mouth fused to hers. Hot tears seeped between the closed lids of her eyes, and she knew in that moment, it was over. Done. She was past fighting. She loved him. Would have him, however he wanted her.

He came up briefly, lips moving against her mouth as he said, “Be my wife.”

She jerked free of his lips, her gasp a sharp rip of air in the stillness, hands flattening on his broad chest. “What?”

He smiled that smile again and this time only hot need glimmered in his eyes. Her toes curled. “I don’t want to lose you. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life with you. When I thought I might never see you again…I felt more than I thought I ever could.” His hands tightened where he held her. “I felt pain, Fallon. I hurt…” He stopped, blinking slowly. “It’s simple. Without you, I ache. With you—” He shook his head and dove in for another kiss.

She dodged his mouth. “But marriage? You’re a duke.”

His lips twisted. “I know. I hope you’re not going to hold that against me.”

She snorted a rough laugh and a slow smile spread across her face. She always had before, she realized. Disliked him and every other peer, on principle alone.

“Yes, but I’m…” her voice faded, unsure what she was anymore. Not a servant. No longer a shadow walking the halls of Penwich waiting for a glimpse of sunlight, yearning for a place to call home.

“The woman I love,” he finished. She felt her eyes widen as he continued. “Nothing else matters.”

“And you’re the man I love.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand, the calloused pads a familiar rasp on her skin. “That matters.”

She laughed, the sound strangely freeing, lifting.

“You’ve always wanted a home of your own, Fallon. I’ll give you that. A house wherever you want. I bloody well don’t care as long as I have you.” He waved a hand about the room. “Here.

In London. At your cottage. Or I’ll build you the house of your dreams. Anywhere.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Just say yes.”

 Yes. Yes. Yes.

She placed both hands on each side of his face, holding him as though he were the dearest thing in the world to her. And amazingly, he was. All that shenever dared dream of. A blue blood. A rake. A demon duke.

“A house isn’t a home.” She had learned that lesson in the last few weeks. “You are. I love you. I can live in a stable, a shack, as long as I have you next to me.”

He grinned. “A stable, eh? You don’t ask for much.”

She brushed her lips to his, smiling with wicked promise. “Don’t fool yourself. I ask for a great deal—everything. You.”

“I’m yours, but I’m afraid you’re going to learn that isn’t much compared to what I’m getting.”

His hands grasped her, but it was a hold she doubted would ever feel too tight.

“No, Dominic. You’re everything. And you’re mine.”

Epilogue

“There you are.” Fallon stopped and propped her hands on her hips, looking down at her husband sprawled beneath a large oak tree, the day’s fading light casting him in seductive shadow. “What are you doing here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Dominic smiled at her—the wicked smile that _still _ made her knees go weak. He reached up and tugged her down beside him. Sprawled beside him, his gaze traveled a warm trail over her. He dipped one finger inside the bodice of her dress, scraping a blunt nail across her flesh. “You look beautiful.”

Her breath caught and she slapped lightly at his hand. “We’re going to be late.”

“Wouldn’t you rather stay here?” He patted the soft grass. “It’s a beautiful night.”

“Here? In the garden?”

“Hmm.” He inched closer, his breath a seductive rasp against her ear. Even married two years, he still stole her breath.

“I thought you wanted to attend. It’s an important night for Ethan. For—”

“He won’t miss us.”

Fallon pouted, running her fingers over the red satin of her dress. “I did want to show off my gown…and it has been an age since we ventured out.”

Dominic rolled her beneath him, his eyes so hot and hungry that she suddenly forgot about her dress. Or that he was crushing it. “As fetching as the gown is, I’d prefer you without it.”

Bending his head, he kissed her, a deep and consuming kiss that ended abruptly at the sudden wail of a baby. His gaze shot to the window of the nursery.

“Dominic?” Suspicion settled in her chest as she watched his eyes flash with anxiety. “Is that why you’re out here? To _spy _ on the baby?”

Gaze still on the nursery window, he asked hurriedly, “Do you think she’s all right?”

Fallon glanced up. A light soon filled the room, and the nanny’s shadow passed the window.

“Yes, Dominic. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s with Ms. Chitwood.”

He scowled. “And what do we know of her?”

“She comes highly recommended.”

He grunted.

“And I like her.”

His shoulders slumped and he sent her a sheepish smile. “You think I’m behaving like an idiot.”

She splayed a hand over his cheek, her heart overflowing with love for him, for their family. “I think you’re behaving like a father. A most excellent father.” Settling back against the tree, she motioned for him to join her. “We’ll have plenty of evenings out.”

Grinning, he settled beside her with a deep, contented sigh. A sigh that she felt reach inside her, warming her heart. Their daughter’s coos and gurgles of delight floated on the air. She feathered her fingers through Dominic’s hair. “I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening.”

“Lying here watching our daughter’s window?”

“No. Lying here _with you _ watching our daughter’s window.”