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an annulment. I’ll settle a small fortune on you for a trip abroad. Then, when you return, it will be like nothing ever changed. You’ll procure a husband readily enough, I’m sure, once they realize you are wealthy.”
    “Precisely what I’ve always wanted. To be loved for my money.” Oh no, she was starting to sound like her father. His exact reason for keeping her dowry so low was to keep fortune hunters away. She’d always felt cheated because of it before. Yet now, when threatened by the probability of having a man marry her for her money, luring him in such a way seemed tawdry.
    Rathburn didn’t respond. Not that she’d expected him to. He was still waiting for her answer.
    Emma drew in a deep breath as if preparing to dive off a cliff into dark, murky water. “You’re confident this ruse won’t get that far?”
    He nodded. “We’ll make it perfectly clear that we’re incompatible. That scenario shouldn’t be too difficult to present.”
    “True.” Was she actually considering this? Perhaps insanity did run in the family. Although, if everything went as planned, it wouldn’t be too terrible a venture. After all, she finally had her parents’ approval, a feat indeed. In addition, Rathburn had come to her— her —for help. How could she turn her back on him?
    Still, if this had been anyone other than him . . . “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
    “But you are . . . doing this?”
    She closed her eyes, knowing that if she agreed there would be no turning back.
    After a moment, Emma met his gaze and nodded.
    His shoulders sagged in visible relief and he tilted his head back as he let out a breath. The tight cording of his throat bunched as he whispered his thanks to the ceiling. His Adam’s apple lifted above the knot of his cravat and then disappeared beneath it. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, the sight held her attention. Her own hand lifted to her throat as she swallowed, leaving her to wonder why her pulse was suddenly so quick.
    When he resumed a proper stance and regarded her with a wide grin, she quickly averted her gaze and lowered her hand. “Then it is settled.” He strode forward, his pleasure in the outcome of their conversation evident in each confident step. “Shall we shake hands to seal our bargain?”
    Not wanting to appear as if she lacked confidence, she thrust out her hand and straightened her shoulders.
    He chuckled, the sound low enough and near enough that she could feel it vibrating in her ears more than she could hear it. His amused gaze teased her before it traveled down her neck, over the curve of her shoulder and down the length of her arm. He took her gloveless hand. His flesh was warm and callused in places that made it impossible to ignore the unapologetic maleness of him.
    She should have known this couldn’t be a simple handshake, not with him. He wasn’t like anyone else. So, why should this be any different?
    He looked down at their joined hands, turning hers this way and that, seeing the contrast no doubt. His was large and tanned, his nails clean but short, leaving the very tips of his fingers exposed. Hers was small and slender, her skin creamy, her nails delicately rounded as was proper. Yet, when she looked at her hand covered by his, she felt anything but proper.
    She tried to pull away, but he kept it and moved a step closer.
    “I know a better way,” he murmured and before she knew his intention, he tilted up her chin and bent his head.
    His mouth brushed hers in a very brief kiss. So brief, in fact, she almost didn’t get a sense that it had occurred at all. Almost.
    However, she did get an impression of his lips. They were warm and softer than they appeared, but that was not to say they were soft. No, they were the perfect combination of softness while remaining firm. In addition, the flavor he left behind was intriguing. Not sweet like liquor or salty like toothpowder, but something in between, something . . . spicy. Pleasantly