Tood had relaxed after two snifters of brandy. “So who is your addition to her gang of three?”
“Why, me, of course.” Neville smiled.
Tood almost choked. “You would marry her?” he gasped.
Neville inclined his head, but avoided answering. He could not name a worse choice of husband for any woman, let alone one he esteemed. He trusted no woman enough to commit to her for life. He had seldom witnessed a marriage that remained happy. Most were simply endured. Not to mention that he would have to remodel his entire existence if he took a wife.
Though he wanted to bed the winsome Miranda more than anything else he could imagine, Neville was not certain he would marry any woman just to have her. Thus far, he had never found it necessary.
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