He brought her hand up to his lips and left a lingering kiss. Then he peeled back her glove and took off his own. With his bare hand holding hers, he traced circles in her palm and ran his fingers up and down the length of her hand. Scarlet’s eyes found his and could not break away. He caressed her skin, enjoying its softness, and then brought his lips to the inside of her wrist, watching her. She swallowed and bit her lip. He reached forward to run his thumb along her mouth, his eyes roaming her face, taking in each feature. Her beauty filled him. He knew he could look at her every day for the rest of their lives and never see enough. “You are so beautiful, Scarlet.”

The carriage came to a stop, and the footman opened the door. As they exited, Scarlet smirked. “Your Highness.”

Matteo turned to her. “What?”

“I said you may call me Your Highness, remember? No one gave you leave to use my Christian name, though you do.”

Matteo growled and reached for her hand, pulling her closer. “I will not.” Looking down into her face, sincerity replaced the teasing. “Though you deserve it. You are a remarkable woman.” He closed the small space between them, hesitating a moment, his lips hovering a breath away from her mouth. Her eyes sparkled up at him, warm and inviting. And he paused, drinking in the thrill of expectation. Then he pressed his lips to hers. As soon as he felt their softness, he craved more. Her bravery, kindness, humor, intelligence all combined to make her lips even more delicious to him. He moved his mouth over hers, struck with a great urgency. Again and again, until the soft sound of Buckley clearing his throat interrupted. Scarlet’s lips moved in a smile beneath his mouth, and he pulled away.

She turned her head and said, “Yes?”

Devoid of emotion, Buckley said, “Is there anything else you need for the evening before we retire?” Then his mouth lowered in disapproval.

Matteo smiled in chagrin. He stepped back from Scarlet but held her hand in his own.

Scarlet answered, “No, thank you, Buckley. Comte Durand was just leaving, and Annabeth will attend me in my rooms.”

“Very good, my lady.” He bowed crisply and returned to the house.

Matteo turned his gaze back to Scarlet’s. “My apologies. I quite forgot myself.” He searched her face, unsure what to do about the emotion that surged through him. “I have never felt this way. I am overcome. You have my heart, my soul. I cannot live another moment without you as my own.” Clarity cleared the misty fog in his mind, and that single desire crystalized at the center of his thoughts: Scarlet, forever and every day his own. He lowered himself to one knee, holding her still-bare hand in his. “Lady Scarlet Cavendish, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”