Excerpt of Tempt Me At Twilight by Lisa Kleypas

“You are persistent,” Poppy said as they walked through
the rose garden behind the hotel. “They told me you would
be.”

“I’m everything they told you and worse,” Harry said
without hesitation. “But what they didn’t tell you is that
you are the most desirable and fascinating woman I’ve ever
met, and I would do anything to have you.”

It was insanely flattering to have a man like Harry
Rutledge pursuing her, especially after the hurt inflicted
by Michael Bayning. Poppy flushed with cheek-stinging
pleasure, as if she’d been lying too long in the sun. She
found herself thinking, Perhaps I’ll consider it, just for
a moment, in a purely hypothetical sense. Harry Rutledge
and me . . .

“I have questions,” she said.

“Ask away.”

Poppy decided to be blunt. “Are you dangerous? Everyone
says you are.”

“To you? No.”

“To others?”

Harry shrugged casually. “The most valuable commodity in
the world is information . . . and I have a lot of it. I
suppose that could be considered dangerous.”

“You garner that information at your hotel?”

“Partly.”

“And you propose to have a family in such an environment?
Do you want children?”

“Yes, and yes.”

Poppy gave him a dubious glance. “Would you have any time
for them? For . . . us?”

“As a man who resides and works in the same place,” he
pointed out, “I would be at my wife’s beck and call.”

“Or she at yours,” Poppy said.

He smiled slightly. “Touché. Let’s say it would be a
convenient arrangement for both sides.”

“Would you ever use physical force against your wife?”

“No.” His answer was gratifyingly immediate, the syllable
roughened as if the very notion offended him.

“Would you keep your wedding vows?”

Harry held her gaze, his green eyes steady. “I wouldn’t
make them otherwise.”

Poppy decided that her family’s worries about letting her
talk to Harry had been entirely justified. Because he was
so persuasive and appealing that she found herself
beginning to seriously consider the idea of marrying him

It occurred to her that she was not the only one taking a
risk. There was no guarantee for Harry that he would end
up with the kind of wife he needed.

“It’s not fair for me to ask all the questions,” she told
him. “You must have some as well.”

“No, I’ve already decided that I want you.”

Poppy couldn’t prevent a bemused laugh. “Do you make all
your decisions so impulsively?”

“Not usually. But I know when to trust my instincts.”

It seemed Harry was about to add something else, when he
saw a movement on the ground from the periphery of his
vision. Following his gaze, Poppy saw her sister's pet
hedgehog Medusa pushing her way through the rose arbor,
waddling innocently across the path. The little brown and
white creature looked like a walking scrub brush. To
Poppy’s surprise, Harry lowered to his haunches to
retrieve her.

“Don’t touch her,” Poppy warned. “She’ll roll into a ball
and sink her quills into you.”

But Harry settled his hands on the ground, palms up, on
either side of the inquisitive hedgehog. “Hello, Medusa,”
he murmured, gently working his hands beneath her. “Sorry
to interrupt your exercise. But believe me, you don’t want
to run into any of my gardeners.”

Poppy watched incredulously as Medusa relaxed and settled
willingly into the warm masculine hands. Her spines
flattened, and she let him lift and turn her so she was
tummy-upward. Harry stroked the soft white fur of her
underbelly, while Medusa’s delicate snout lifted, and she
regarded him with her perpetual smile.

“I’ve never seen anyone except Beatrix handle her like
that,” Poppy said, standing beside him. “You have
experience with hedgehogs?”

“No.” Harry slanted a smile at her. “But I have some
experience with prickly females.”

“Excuse me,” Beatrix’s voice interrupted them, and she
came beneath the rose arbor. She was disheveled, bits of
leaves clinging to her dress, her hair straggling over her
face. “I seem to have lost track of . . . oh, there you
are, Medusa!” She broke into a grin as she saw Harry
cradling the hedgehog in his hands. “You can trust a man
who can handle a hedgehog, that’s what I always say.”

“Do you?” Poppy asked dryly. “I’ve never heard you say
that.”

“I only say it to Medusa.”

Harry carefully transferred the pet to Beatrix’s
hands. “‘The fox has many tricks,’” he quoted, “‘the
hedgehog only one.’” He smiled at Beatrix as he
added, “But it’s a good one.”

“Archilochus,” Beatrix said promptly. “You read Greek
poetry, Mr. Rutledge?”

“Not usually. But I make an exception for Archilochus. He
knew how to make a point.”

“Father used to call him a ‘raging iambic,’” Poppy said,
and Harry laughed.

And in that moment, Poppy made her decision.

Because even though Harry Rutledge had his flaws, a man
who could charm a hedgehog and understand jokes about
ancient Greek poets was a man worth taking a risk on.

She wouldn’t be able to marry for love, but she could at
least marry for hope.

“Bea,” she murmured, “might you allow us a few moments
alone?”

“Certainly. Medusa would love to grub about for worms in
the next row.”

“Thank you, dear.” Poppy turned back to Harry, who was
dusting his hands. “May I ask one more question?”

He looked at her alertly and spread his hands as if to
show he had nothing to hide.

“Would you say that you’re a good man, Harry?”

He had to think about that. “No,” he finally said. “In the
fairy tale you mentioned last night . . . I would probably
be the villain. But it’s possible the villain would treat
you far better than the prince would have.”

Poppy wondered what was wrong with her, that she should be
amused rather than frightened by his confession. “Harry.
You’re not supposed to court a girl by telling her you’re
the villain.”

He gave her an innocent glance that didn’t deceive her in
the least. “I’m trying to be honest.”

“Perhaps. But you’re also making certain that whatever
anyone says about you, you’ve already admitted it. Now
you’ve made all criticism of you ineffectual.”

Harry’s expression changed, and he blinked as if she’d
surprised him. “You think I’m that manipulative?”

She nodded.

Harry seemed stunned that she could see through him so
easily. But instead of being annoyed, he stared at her
with stark longing. “Poppy, I have to have you.”

Reaching her in two steps, he took her into his arms.