Engaged in Sin (51 page)

As she stepped out at the top of the stairs, Devon was waiting in the foyer. His eyes gleamed when he saw her.
“You are beautiful,” he said softly. “And I made a good choice.”

“In me?” she asked, confused.

“Yes, and in these.” He drew a long, slim box from his pocket. Inside was a necklace of huge emeralds—a dozen of them, each the size of a robin’s egg. Devon lifted it, dropped the box, and stepped behind her. The stones were cool, heavy, dazzling against her skin. He fastened the clasp, then kissed the nape of her neck. Instantly, she was hot with desire.

“Now, Anne, give me the chance to show the world what you mean to me.”

She had no idea what he meant, but she tipped up her chin and walked with him to the ballroom. At his side, she greeted the two hundred guests. Then, with her hand in his, Devon led her out to dance. Couples whirled around in the waltz, which was considered a most scandalous dance. But Devon stopped. “I wanted to waltz with you. Unfortunately, that will have to wait.”

“Wait?” she echoed. “For what?”

Instead of taking her in his arms, he dropped to one knee before her. Other couples had to weave around him. Many came to an abrupt halt. At the edge of the onlookers, Anne spotted the dowager, and she had a very delighted gleam in her eye.

Devon gazed up at her. “Anne, my love, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The music halted with a screech. Every head craned toward them, because her husband was proposing to her.
Again
. She gazed helplessly at him, but his smile only widened.

“Marry me all over again, my duchess. I love you, Anne. You are the most beautiful woman in the world. You have the kindest heart, the most generous nature, but more than that: You are my love. I asked you to marry me once before, but you refused me—”

Fierce whispers washed over the crowd at that.

“You asked me again and I said yes,” she pointed out.

“Then say yes to me this time, love. I want the world to know I love you.”

Everyone waited, straining to hear.

“Yes,” she whispered through a very tight throat. “I love you, too, Devon.”

He surged up, swept her into his arms, and kissed her. In front of two hundred stunned guests, she had just become engaged—to her husband. She could hear the talk buzzing.
A duke marrying a courtesan for
love?
How scandalous. How sordid
.

How perfect
, Anne thought. And by proposing to her in public, Devon had made himself even more shocking than she was. She loved him. She wanted fervently to show him how much. “Can we escape?” she whispered. “Right now?”

“Eager for another wedding night?”

“I’d like to celebrate our … um … engagement by engaging in a little sin. But we can’t run out on two hundred guests. We should be proper—”

“Anne, angel, neither of us is proper. At heart, we are both wild. So let us be wild.” Devon grinned and set her down on her feet. Despite the shocked gasps they provoked, they darted across the ballroom hand in hand, toward the doors. Toward the future. A glorious future, Anne thought—one that had begun the very moment they had engaged in a bit of delicious sin.

Sometimes writing a book is a process that involves an author traveling down a few wrong paths before finding the right direction and the perfect way to tell the story. I’d like to thank the people who were there for me during the ups and downs of the writing process.

Thank you so much to my editor, Shauna Summers, for ensuring that this book became the best it could possibly be, and for always being enthusiastic and supportive.

A huge thank-you to my agent, Jessica Faust, for being there at all times, even through more than a few “frazzled author” emails.

Much gratitude to my critique partners for guidance, brainstorming sessions, moral support, and baked goods.

Thank you as always to my wonderfully supportive husband, and to my children, who have been so patient during those times when Mommy has a deadline.

And, especially, thank you to my readers. You make it all worthwhile.