Livia's gaze did not waver. "Try hundred."
"I believe we shall both be far too old and dry for anything enjoyable by then, my love," Henry said. He saw the slight tightening at the corner of her mouth. Whether it was irritation or the beginning of a smile, he chose not to know. He straightened and offered her his hand.
Livia looked down at his hand then she ignored it entirely. With perfect composure, she gathered her skirts, lifted her chin, and stepped into the carriage unaided. She settled inside without once looking back at him, her face turned straight ahead.
Henry's smile widened.
Infuriating woman.
Wonderful woman.
She refused him with the same elegance other women used to flirt with him, and God help him, it only made him want her more. He wanted this version of Livia too: impossible to bend.
