She scowled at him. "You know what I mean."

"Very well, then," he said. "I think we are making quite a fair-minded deal. I marry you, and you get your money. You marry me, and I get my money."

Ellie blinked. "I hadn't really thought of it that way, but yes, that's about the sum of it."

"Good. Have we a bargain?"

Ellie swallowed, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that she had just sold her soul to the devil. As the earl had just pointed out, marriage was forever, and she had known this man but two days. She shut her eyes for a moment, then nodded.

"Excellent." Charles beamed as he rose to his feet, holding on to the arm of his chair while he steadied his cane. "We must seal our bargain in a more festive manner."

"Champagne?" Ellie asked, ready to kick herself for sounding so hopeful. She'd always wanted to know what it tasted like.

"A good idea," he murmured, crossing over to the sofa where she sat. "I'm sure I have some on the premises. But I was thinking of something a little different."

"Different?"

"More intimate."

She stopped breathing.

He sat next to her. "A kiss, I think, would be appropriate."

"Oh," Ellie said quickly and loudly. "That's not necessary." And just in case he missed her point, she gave her head a broad shake.

He caught her chin in a light but firm grasp. "Au contraire, my wife, I think it is very necessary."

"I'm not your—"

"You will be."

She had no argument for that.

"We should make sure that we suit, don't you think?" He leaned closer.

"I'm certain we will. We don't need—"

He halved the distance between them. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?"

"Oh, all the time," she said, desperate to do anything, say anything to keep him from kissing her. "In fact—"

"And at the most inopportune times, too." He shook his head in a sweetly scolding manner.

"Well, I don't really have such an ideal sense of timing. Just look at—"

"Hush."

And he said it with such soft authority that she did. Or perhaps it might have been the smoldering look in his eyes. No one had ever smoldered over Eleanor Lyndon before. It was beyond startling.

His lips brushed against hers, and a sharp tingle shot up and down her spine as his hand moved to her neck. "Oh, my goodness!" she whispered.

He chuckled. "You talk when you kiss, too."

"Oh." She looked up anxiously. "I'm not supposed to?"

He started laughing so hard that he had to pull away from her and sit back. "Actually," he said as soon as he was able, "I find it rather endearing. As long as you're being complimentary."

"Oh," she said again.

"Shall we give it another go?" he asked.

Ellie rather thought that she'd used up all of her protests with the previous kiss. Besides, now that she'd tried it once, she was a bit more curious. She gave her head a tiny nod.

His eyes flashed with something very male and possessive, and his mouth touched her lips once again. This kiss was just as gentle as the previous one, but so, so much deeper. His tongue feathered along the line of her lips until she parted them with a sigh. Then he moved in, exploring her mouth with lazy confidence.

Ellie gave herself up to the moment, sinking into his hard frame. He was warm and strong, and there was something thrilling about the way his hands pressed against her back. She felt branded, burned, as if she'd somehow been marked as his.

His passion grew fierce... and scary. Ellie had never kissed a man before, but she could tell that he was an expert at this. She had no idea what to do, and he knew too much, and... She stiffened, suddenly overwhelmed. This wasn't right. She didn't know him, and—

Charles pulled away, sensing her withdrawal. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

Ellie tried to remind herself how to breathe, and when she finally found her voice again, she said, "You've done this before, haven't you?" Then she closed her eyes for a moment and muttered, "What am I saying? Of course you have."

He nodded, shaking with silent laughter. "Is there a problem with that?"

"I'm not certain. I have this feeling I'm some sort of..." Her words trailed off.

"Some sort of what?"

"Prize."

"Well, you certainly are that," Charles said, his tone clearly marking his statement as a compliment.

But Ellie didn't take it as such. She didn't like to think'of herself as an object to be won, and she particularly didn't like the fact that Billington made her head spin so fast that when he kissed her she lost all sense of reason. She stepped quickly away from him and sat down in the chair he'd recently occupied. It was still warm from his body, and she could swear she could smell him, and—

She gave her head a little shake. What on earth had that kiss done to her brain? Her thoughts were skipping along with no sensible direction. She wasn't sure that she liked herself this way, all breathless and silly. Steeling herself, she looked up.

Charles raised his brows. "I can see you have something important to tell me."

Ellie frowned. Was she that transparent? "Yes," she said. "About that kiss ..."

"I would be more than happy to talk about that kiss," he said, and she wasn't certain if he was laughing or merely smiling or—

She was doing it again. Losing her train of thought. This was dangerous. "It can't happen again," she blurted out.

"Is that so?" he drawled.