Page 89 of A Remarkable Rogue

She sighed. “So go the fortunes of war.”

He laughed, and a tingling warmth filled him. God, how much he loved this woman and the boy she held on her lap! How much he wanted to hold her in his arms tonight and every night, put children of his own into her womb, and build a home with her. He loved her laughter and her scowls, the way she baited him one moment and then seduced him the next. Lord help him, he even loved the way she ordered him about.

He had loved Sarah and always would, just as Sydney would always love Michael Berkley. Past loves never completely died.

But this woman sitting across from him, humming softly as she stroked her son’s hair—she was his future.

“Sydney.”

She twirled a blond curl around her finger. “Hmm?”

“Marry me.”

Twenty-Six

Sydney’s hand froze—allof her froze, even the breath in her chest. For a long moment, there was no movement inside the tiny compartment, no sound but the roll of the wheels beneath them. Then she slowly raised her eyes to his.

She couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly. “Pardon?”

“Marry me, Baroness.” He exhaled a heavy breath of resolve, his face serious despite the teasing words. “Make an honest man of me.”

“Dear God,” she whispered as the shock of what he was asking jolted through her. “You’re mad!”

He glanced down at Robbie, she was certain, to make sure the boy was still asleep and not overhearing their conversation. “I’m not one of those men, Sydney, who wants only mistresses and convenient couplings for an evening or two, then goes away without an afterthought. I’ve always been serious about the women I’ve invited into my life.” His voice was low against the night and its darkness, and it brushed over her skin like soft velvet. “Especially the ones I take into my bed.”

She gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious. When I saw you at the faro table, I think part of me knew even then that you’d become more to me than just a mission asset, and I knew at the cottage that you were more than just a lover.” His eyes glowed intensely, even in the shadows. “Youare my future, Sydney. I want you to be my wife.”

Her voice lowered even as her exasperation grew. “I can’t marry you.”

“Can’t,” he pressed quietly, “or won’t?”

“Both,” she answered honestly. She sagged back against the squabs in frustration. Robbie fussed in his sleep at the movement, and she caressed her hand over his back to soothe him.

Nate leaned forward. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good. Because I love you, too, and I love that little boy of yours. So marry me, Sydney. We’ll be a family together, and you and the little major can order me about all you want.”

Marry him?She was afraid to look up at him for fear that the blasted man might very well be on his knees in a formal proposal right then.

“I can’t.” She pressed her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to stop the throbbing inside her skull that matched the sudden frantic pounding of her heart.

“Why not?”

She gave a frustrated groan. “An army captain and a baroness?”

He shrugged. “The hero of Toulouse and a widow free to do as she pleases.”

“Nate,” she scolded plaintively. He couldn’t possibly be that naïve.

“I don’t care about status and position or what society says. Neither do you. So to hell with the lot of them, and let’s do what we want. Let’s make ourselves happy, now and for the rest of our lives.”

“It isn’t that simple.” Her arms tightened around Robbie, and she choked out, “I have a son by another man.”

His voice was a low but insistent purr as he assured her, “I will raise him as if he were my own.”