Sherbrooke Twins

James, without thinking, with no consideration at all, bounded from the bed and stomped over to her, so angry he was panting.

He grabbed her bodice and jerked it up to her chin. And heard a rip. Corrie didn’t say a word, just stood there, staring at him.

He was naked.

“James,” she said, looked down his body, and gulped. “This is a lovely treat, but perhaps your mother might walk in and what would she think? I’m an i

He cursed, she was right; it seemed when he was angry with her he got harder than the bedpost. Or maybe it was whenever he remarked upon her breasts, he got harder than-He stomped back to his bed and grabbed his dressing gown. He shrugged it on, tied the belt at his waist, and walked back up to her. He took her shoulders in his large hands. “I ripped your gown. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You must be feeling much better. You roared out of that bed ready to hurl me out the window.”

“No, I just wanted to cover you so I wouldn’t have to lie there in my bed and slaver.”

She blinked. “Looking at me would make you slaver, James? You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“No, dammit, I’m not lying. Now look at you, your right sleeve is hanging off and your gown is still so low it makes me want to howl at the moon.”

“Hmmm, I must ask Devlin if vampires can howl at the sun.”

He gritted his teeth. “Do not speak of Devlin Monroe to me again. Do you understand me, Corrie? Now, I trust you burst in on me to inform me of your decision to marry me?”

“I came to tell you that my aunt and uncle are already pla

“Do not say his bloody name!”

“All right. He came to visit me this morning. It turns out that Jason tracked him down at his club last night and told him marriage to me would do him in. Can you believe Jason told him I would kill him if he kept his mistresses? Actually kill him, that’s what Jason told him. He also said that since he’d known me from the age of three, he knew what I was capable of. He asked Devlin-oops, I didn’t mean to mention his name-if he were willing to tread the path of faithfulness until he stuck his spoon in the wall. Devlin said he laughed when Jason asked him that. Then he asked me if I would really kill him if he were unfaithful.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him I’d kill him deader than the di

“And what did he say to that?”

“He laughed some more, told me then that there was no gentleman of his acquaintance who could safely marry me, given my stand on fidelity, despite all my money, unless the gentleman was teetering on bankruptcy, and the good Lord knew that such a gentleman would promise anything at all to get what he wanted, including-horror of horrors-fidelity. He laughed again, told me that when it came down to it, even the promise of murder wouldn’t deter a man from promising anything, and then doing what he wanted. That was the way of the world. It’s not right, James, just not right.”

“My father has never broken faith to my mother, nor she to him.”

“I suppose the same is true for Aunt Maybella and Uncle Simon. I don’t think it’s particularly due to Uncle Simon’s fortitude in matters of the flesh. I think it would take too much time away from his leaf studies. What do you think?”

“I can’t believe you’ve gotten me off on this ridiculous tangent. Will you marry me, Corrie?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I will never marry a man who doesn’t love me.”

“Are you saying that you would marry Devlin if he swore to be faithful to you?”

She appeared thoughtful. He wanted to strangle her.

“You will say no, dammit!”

“All right, no.”

“Well, I swear I won’t be unfaithful.”

She sighed. “I do think Dev-our vampire-was wrong when he said that every man would promise anything I wished in order to get what he wanted. You wouldn’t do that. I know you down to your beautiful feet. You would never lie about something so very important.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“James, listen. You’re an honorable man, too honorable for your own good, as a matter of fact, at least most of the time. The fact is, I don’t want to get married. I’m only in my first practice season. I’ve barely begun to sow my wild oats, barely begun to learn the ins and outs of flirting.

“I’m too young to get married, particularly for such an absurd reason. You’re too young too. Admit it. Marriage is-or was-the last thing on your mind before all this happened.”

“I won’t admit to that.”

“Then I’ll have to reassess how truthful you are.”

“All right, dammit. I had no thought of marriage. For God’s sake, I’m only twenty-five years old. You speak of sowing wild oats. Well, I have bucketfuls left to sow. But I will forego them because honor is more important. Stop whining. Accept what must be.”

“But neither of us did anything wrong!”

“I will waltz with you until there are holes in your slippers.”

“I imagine Uncle Simon promised the same thing to my aunt. She didn’t get holes in her slippers, James, she got leaves. Bloody leaves! She told me once that on their honeymoon, Uncle Simon allowed her to press three leaves in one of his many books. However, he didn’t allow her to label it. That sounds perfectly dreadful, James.”

“I will not have you pressing leaves on our honeymoon.”

“Ah, and what would you do on our honeymoon?”

He was close to swallowing his tongue. “There are standard things that a man and a woman do after they’re married. Surely you know all about sex, Corrie.”

“Well, not all that much, really. You mean to say that’s what you would do rather than pressing leaves? You wouldn’t be reading me treatises on the orbital rotation of Saturn in a cosmic dust storm?”

“No. Saturn would cease to exist for me. Saturn wouldn’t exist for most normal men on their honeymoon, unless they were looking up at the stars and Saturn just happened to be shining down in their eyes. You see, most men think about only one thing, and on their honeymoon, they can-well, never mind that.” James dashed his fingers through his hair. “Dammit, you need a bit of promised wickedness, don’t you? Very well, I am going to strip you naked and make love to you until you are snoring with exhaustion.”

“James, you’ve said quite a lot there. But the end of it-me lying there snoring-that doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“All right, I happen to know that you don’t snore. You make little mewling noises. Now, listen to me. I will let you flirt with me, endlessly.”

“Men do not flirt with their wives.”

“Now there’s a wise oracle speaking.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me, James Sherbrooke. I’m not stupid. I know that Aunt Maybella would many times rather kick Uncle Simon than kiss him.”

“You should see my parents. Last week I came around a corner and saw my father pressing my mother against a wall, kissing her neck. They’ve been married forever.”

“Pressing her against a wall? Really?”

“Really. And I would do no less. I will nibble on your neck in a dark section of a garden, the night jasmine scenting the air. We will get along famously, Corrie. Now, I’m nearly ready to collapse, so say yes and leave me in peace.”

“You don’t love me.”

And he said, the words pouring out of his mouth, “I can’t imagine that Devlin Monroe told you he loves you?”

“No, he didn’t. He told me he finds me a delight, his word. Don’t get me wrong. Being a delight sounds clever indeed, but it’s not what’s important in marriage, James.”