She stared at him, trying to find a crack where one didn’t exist. “Don’t do this, Alex. Please, I’m begging you to reconsider.”

“Why are you fighting this so hard when I know it’s what you want?”

“What I want?” she exploded angrily. “This has nothing to do with what I want. This is about you—about easing your conscience, assuaging your honor. I told you I didn’t want this.”

“Is that right? And when you came to my room, what did you think then, Joan? What did you really think would happen?”

She looked down, biting her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean for it . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

She sounded so forlorn—almost lost—and it ate at him. He wasn’t an ogre, damn it. Why was she trying to make him feel like one?

They’d gotten off track; he needed to get them back on. Gently, he took her in his arms. She did not resist, but the indifference was almost worse. His chest tightened as he tipped her face to his. “It was never my intention to make you unhappy. I was only trying to do what I thought was right. I thought after what happened that you would not be wholly averse to a match. I went to Edward because I knew Sir Henry would not support the match and would do everything to prevent it. The king may have granted permission, but I would very much like to hear you say yes.” He took a deep breath. “Marry me, sweetheart. I swear to you I will do everything in my power to make sure you never regret it.”

He quieted her objection—if she’d been about to make one—with a kiss. The moment their lips met, he felt something break apart inside him. All the worries, all the troubles, all the posturing and pleading he’d had to do with Edward were forgotten. It hadn’t been six days since he’d kissed her last, but it felt like an eternity.

Christ, her lips were so soft and sweet. He wanted to devour them—devour her. But he forced himself to go slow. To ease her into the passion this time. To show her that it wouldn’t always be fast and furious between them, that it could also be slow and tender but every bit as intense.

And hot. It was like a damned inferno. One touch of their lips and the air combusted between them, spreading heat in molten waves over them both. It threatened to pull him under, but he kept his mind focused on his task. This was a wooing, not another ravaging. He was going to make it impossible for her to refuse.