"For all the reasons I agreed to the marriage in the first place," she murmured. "To please my father, to run my own household, to have children and the security of a man's name." She ran a fingertip over a delicately arched brow before locking gazes with him again. "No one knows your secret, and I certainly won't enlighten anyone. I will have the protection and status of your name, with none of the inconveniences of a husband. In fact," she said, obviously warming up to the topic, "if you are indeed Sebastian Blake, the situation pleases me in a way it didn't before."

He stroked his hand down the center of his chest, noting the way her eyes followed the movement with ravenous attention. "You would maintain my house, bear my name and my children?"

"Of course," she replied, blushing as her gaze returned to his. "I am aware of my responsibilities as your… er… Lord Merrick's wife."

"You would have to welcome me to your bed." He paused for emphasis. "Often."

Her eyebrow lifted. "If you are who you claim to be, I would welcome you eagerly."

Sebastian stilled at that. In fact, he couldn't move. The image her words brought to mind had him throbbing painfully. "My title would elicit eagerness in you?"

"I am not that shallow," she said, with a lift of her chin.

"Then my form is what you find so attractive?"

Olivia snorted. "Attractive? You are a heathen."

He shot up, setting the hammock swaying perilously. "A heathen?"

"Yes, look at you." She waved in his direction. "Your hair is unfashionably long. Damn near as long as mine."

"It is nowhere near that long!" he argued, put out. "And don't swear!"

"And your muscles," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"What about my muscles?" he growled.