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made the heat start forming again inside her, and she wanted to touch him again, go to him. Instead she reached for the breeches, pulling them up and over her shift. They were tight on her, but then, men had no hips. She pulled the shirt over her head, emerging with enough calm to say, “And what was that?”
    â€œIf you lust after someone and have an absurd and overwhelming need to protect them, then the best way to deal with the situation is to marry the person.”
    She froze, looking at him. “Besides,” he said with a rueful smile, “Jack would have killed me if he knew I’d despoiled his beautiful baby sister with the huge crush on me.”
    She felt the color flood her face. She swallowed. “How long have you known?” Of course he’d insist on marrying her. He was basically decent beneath it all. And she had no choice but to refuse.
    â€œAbout halfway through the whole process. If I had even a shred of honor I would have stopped, but I’m afraid I’m quite impossible. You’re going to have your hands full with me.”
    â€œI won’t marry you.”
    â€œOf course you will,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you? You followed me around like a puppy dog all those years ago, which was pure misery, because I wanted nothing more than to toss you down in the straw and despoil you, and you were too damned young. Back then I had scruples. Fortunately, nowadays I have none.”
    â€œThen why do you want to marry me?” she said, shoving her hair away from her face.
    â€œI have no idea,” he said idly. “I expect I love you. Nothing else could account for such bizarre behavior on my part. I imagine the captain of the packet ship can perform the ceremony. Are you ready?”
    She didn’t move. She couldn’t marry him, and she needed shoes, and she wasn’t sure which was the more important to argue about.
    â€œOh, shoes,” he said, noting the obvious. “I have a pair of boots that will do. If you have trouble navigating, I’ll carry you.”
    â€œThrough the streets?” she said, aghast and amused.
    â€œIt’s Venice,” he said. He reached over the bed and produced a key. “Shall we go, my love?” He held out his arm for her.
    She hesitated for just a moment. “Oh, what the hell,” she said, and ran into his arms, feeling them wrap tightly around her. He kissed her again, kissed her until she was breathless, and then unlocked the door.
    â€œWe’ll live in Ireland, I think,” he mused as they left the palazzo, wandering down one of the back alleyways. “You’ll like it.”
    She looked up at him. “I still love you,” she said.
    â€œI know you do,” he replied with a cheeky grin. “I think we’ll have horses.” And they strolled down the narrow alley, across St. Mark’s Square, heading for the docks, and no one looked twice.
    After all, it was Venice.

The House of Rohan
    If you liked this story, be sure to read more scandalous stories about the Heavenly Host in the House of Rohan trilogy by Anne Stuart!
    Ruthless
    (August 2010)
    Reckless
    (September 2010)
    Breathless
    (October 2010)
    â€œAnne Stuart proves once again why she is one of the most beloved and reliably entertaining authors in the genre. Every book she writes is witty, inventive, dark and sexy—a wild adventure for the mind…and the heart.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs on the House of Rohan series
    Turn the page for an excerpt from Ruthless ….

Ruthless
    Paris, 1768
    The visit with the lawyer had not gone well. Elinor Harriman arrived home just as her sister, Lydia, had finished dealing with their landlord, and she ducked out of sight so the old lecher wouldn’t see her. Monsieur Picot had no patience for either her or her mother, but her baby sister was a different matter. All Lydia had to do was let tears fill her limpid blue