Rules for Reforming a Rake(143)

By: Meara Platt


“But I don’t mind at all.” Her tears had held off, but no longer. She let out a sniffle. “Just tell me what I can do for you—”

“Lass, it isn’t necessary.” His gaze was a dangerous smolder that seemed to intensify each time she tried to touch him.

The tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Anything. You have only to ask and I’ll do it. You have my promise.”

“I don’t want it.”

She hated feeling guilty. Why wouldn’t he simply accept her apology? “You have it anyway. My sacred promise. What can I do to atone for the damage I’ve caused?”

He eyed her for a disconcertingly long moment. “Very well,” he said with quiet authority. “Marry me.”