by Kresley Cole
She strode for the door. Why had he ever assumed this would be easy?
"Those are my terms," she said without looking back. "I think I'm being very generous."
"So am I. The ring you're walking away with will keep you in apples for many a year."
She turned to him. "I don't evenlike you."
"Yet I have it on good authority that you did once."
Her lips thinned, and he wagered she was silently vowing to kill her friends. "Worse, you don't even like me."
He didn't bother denying it. He was feeling a lot of things about her, buta liking for her was not one of them. "You're negotiating with me as if you have a leg to stand on. Where does a girl like you get the ballocks to risk losing a man with money and power who's willing to marry her? You've been ruined, remember? Most wealthy men would only accept a virgin. Since I relieved you of yours, this is your good fortune that I'm still interested."
"I know that I'm not negotiating from a position of power—but I don't trust you. Ifiercely don't trust you."
"Do you want this condition for leverage or because you fear me getting a bairn on you before marriage?"
"Both," she readily admitted.
Seeing that she would hold firm on this for now, he said, "Fine. I'll agree that we'll wait—if you vow to slake me in other ways, whenever I want it." When she frowned at him, he said, "I doona care how I'm satisfied—just that I am."
"You're only saying that because you think you can seduce me to do more."
That was precisely what he'd planned. He didn't like how she continued to anticipate his moves.
"It won't happen because I have no interest in you that way," she added.
"You'll learn to want me again."
"You're amazing! If your behavior didn't kill any spark of desire for you, then your true appearance did."
He narrowed his eyes, stalking toward her. When he'd backed her against the wall, he reached his hand out to cup her nape. "You canna deny you enjoyed my kiss," he said as he slowly drew her into his chest.
Her breaths shallowed. "B-because I believed you were different then."
"Do you ever think about what happened in the carriage before I took you?"
When her cheeks grew flushed, he had his answer.
"I do," he admitted. "I think about it. Constantly." He knew he needed to use a measured seduction to get what he wanted. Though it took will, he moved his hand from gripping her neck to cradling her face. "And I remember that you liked the way I kissed you and stroked you."
She gazed at his lips, with her brows drawn as if she was thinking of it just then.
He leaned down and murmured at her ear, "You were so close to coming for me."
She gasped, shivering against him.
Nuzzling her neck down past her choker, he said, "Why do you think you will no' enjoy it again?" Their ragged breaths were the only sounds in the room. "I'm going to kiss you now, and if you doona respond, then I'll leave and never bother you again. If you do…then you're mine."
"I'm not going to agree to that…"She swallowed. "Agree to your ridiculous"—he drew in closer—"little test." Her hands were balled against his chest. "Silly, really…"
He slowly slanted his mouth over hers, but she tensed, pushing against him. He didn't release her, just continued to tease her lips with his tongue. After long moments, her fists relaxed, and she rested her palms against him.
At last, her lips parted for him, letting him taste her as he'd wanted to for weeks. She brushed her hands up from his chest, twining her fingers at his neck, pressing her body against him so sweetly.
When he deepened the contact, she gave a whimper, then began kissing him back, filling him with a sense of triumph. Maybe she didn't find him repulsive. Why would she feign this? Her lapping tongue made his blood race, made him want to reach down and cup her arse to grind her against him. He'd been prepared to seduce, to cajole, to pleasure her. But he hadn't been prepared to lose himself from a mere kiss—again.
She tugged on his neck, rubbing against his front, and he groaned. How could she render him so crazed so swiftly? He was already nearing the edge of his control, fighting the nearly irresistible urge to toss her to the bed and mindlessly cover her.
With a will he hadn't known he possessed, he forced himself to release her. After struggling to collect his thoughts and to catch his breath, he rasped, "It does no' have to be bad, Madeleine. I'll teach you to trust me again, and we can bring each other pleasure."
She looked stunned, guarded, almost worse than before, so he tried to make his tone light. "Though I think after a couple of days, you'll find it easier just to lie back and receive me."
"Why? Is it difficult to please you? It didn't seem that much so in the carriage."
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to even his tone. "No' necessarily. It's just that you'll be doing it three or four times a day."
"With a man of your advanced years?"
Advanced years? By God, Iamgoing to throttle her. "Let's just say that I've got a lot to make up for. And it begins tonight."
"I haven't agreed, MacCarrick."
"You will. But before you do, I reserve the right to try to seduce you completely."
After a long hesitation, she said, "I'll agree,if you'll get me my own room tonight. As for the other, I guaranteenothing ."
"Why would I get you a room? As of this minute, we're engaged." Ach, that sounded unnatural.
"I just want to soak in that tub and think about everything. My head's spinning." She swayed on her feet. "Please, if you knew the day I've had…"
"How can I be certain you will no' run off in the night? You did before."
"If I promise not to?"
"I will give you some time to bathe, but from now on, we share a room."
She exhaled, then reluctantly nodded.
"I'll return in half an hour," he said before leaving. As he made his way downstairs to the street, he took in the chill air, trying to shake off her effect on him.
Damn it, he could go a night without touching her—a small sacrifice for the larger plan. He didn't know how well he'd acquit himself anyway. He hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time since he'd decided to journey to Paris for her, and weakness from his injury lingered.
He frowned. How would they sleep tonight? He understood why he'd had to insist they share a room, but it had been strange to do so since he'd never stayed the night with a woman in his entire life. He'd shuddered at the prospect of waking to most of them and had resented even theidea of the intrusion into his life.
After sex, when they'd sighed, reaching for him with their clinging arms, he'd bolted every time. Throwing on his clothes as he hastened out into rain, snow, or whatever element—he'd just made sure he escaped.Clingers, every bloody one of them .
Women had a lamentable and ridiculous tendency to conflate sex and affection, not understanding that these were two distinct scenarios—and that he only had interest in the former. Ethan thought they ought not go together at all….
A laughing older couple, clearly married, passed him on their way into the hotel. He studied them, supposing some people had success with matrimony. Ethan's own parents had been deeply in love. But then, their union had ended in tragedy. Would his brothers fare better—
Did Madeleine really just agree to marry me?
If he took away the charade, the fact remained that she'd acceptedhis proposal—after seeing his face.
He scowled. The only way a man who looked like him could land a beauty like her was because she was starving and in danger and she believed he could protect her. The only reason he was so repulsive was because of what her parents had done to him.
In his mind, she was his. He wasowed her. Owed the use of her soft body. In fact, it was his due to touch her anytime he pleased. Hadn't he told her she'd satisfy him whenever he desired it?
So why had he left now? Anger simmering, he stomped back up the stairs to stake his claim.
Chapter Tw
enty-one
As Maddy sat in the vast plunge tub, rinsing complimentary lavender shampoo from her hair, she mused that she might—just maybe—have gotten back on her feet.
Just with that ring, currently threaded on her length of ribbon and glinting at her from the nearby bureau, she could dig her way out of debt.
And if the Scot genuinely wanted to marry her, she'd be rich! A countess even.
She leaned back in the hot water—so high it practically hit her shoulders—allowing herself to relax as the steam rose all around her. She definitely could get used to this.
Maddy frowned. But then she'd have to allow him to make love to her. If only he could do that part as well as he kissed. Nevertheless, she could endure much to receive all this. And at least she'd come to believe that he hadn't meant to hurt her that night. He'd flinched every time she brought it up.
She opened her eyes—
He was just there, watching her!
Shooting to her feet, she dove for a bath towel. She yanked it over her shoulders like a blanket, but she feared that with his eagle eyes, he'd seen her arm. How had she not heard him come in? "You said you'd give me half an hour!"
"And you said you'd satisfy me whenever I wanted it. I want it now." He removed his jacket. "Drop the towel."
"I-I never agreed to be naked!"
"You want me to marry you without ever seeing your body in the light?"
"Most do!"
In a flash, his hand shot out, stripping her of the towel. When she grappled for it, he whirled her around, and with his grip both gentle and firm, he pinned her wrists together behind her. He was maneuvering her as if he was searching for her scar, but the sight of her breasts seemed to stop him.
His voice roughened. "I only got to see these in shadow before." He made some growling sound, and his big palm covered one. She froze at the shock of heat. He hissed in a breath.
Would he still want her after seeing her body completely? She wouldn't want him anyway! Why couldn't she have bigger breasts? She squeezed her eyes closed, mortified.
Softly kneading her flesh, he grated, "No bigger than a teacup."
Maddy wanted todie .
"You might beintelligent , but you're no'pretty ," he sneered.
Die immediately.
He dropped his hand to palm her bottom, and low masculine sounds broke from his chest. "You're bloodybeautiful ." He sounded infuriated by that fact.
She peeked open her eyes and found his muscles tensed. His erection was huge, straining against his trousers.
Beautiful? After he's seen me naked in the light?
His hand began rubbing all over her, along her hips, over her belly and breasts, as if he didn't know where to touch her next—as if he was overwhelmed by a bounty. His brows drawn, his breaths haggard, he said, "So fair…"
Though he was clothed and scrutinizing her, Maddy's pleasure heightened with each stroke.He thinks I'm beautiful. The idea was so pleasing…her eyelids fluttered closed. The more he touched her, the more she wanted just to lie back and let him explore her like this.What is happening to me?
When he swept a hand over the curls between her thighs and rasped, "The color of your light hair," she shivered, having to stifle a moan.
"Aye, just let me look at you, lass," he bit out once she relaxed in his hold.
When he released her hands, she took a breath, as though gathering courage. He could tell she had the urge to cover herself—she blushed and glanced sharply away—but she didn't.
He'd taken her virginity, enjoyed her, touched her, and had never comprehended—or savored—exactly how lovely her body was.
The room's lamp cast light over her pale, smooth shoulders. Her long hair cascaded in wet curls, brushing over her hardened nipples. His gaze followed the rivulets of water sluicing down from her breasts to her belly and lower, and he hungered to follow that trail with his tongue and lips.
He heard a low rumbling sound and was surprised to find it came from within him.
She was slim, but somehow shapely, utterly womanly. Her hips flared from her tiny waist, giving her an hourglass shape. Her arse could not be more pert and lush. And the two dimples above it…? Ethan stifled a groan. He wanted to press his thumbs over them as he held her in place and thrust against her.
But her sensuous little breasts riveted him…. They were small yet high and plump, and her nipples were so sensitive, budding with the lightest touch. Though he remembered he'd always preferred heavy, full breasts, after cupping hers in his palm, he couldn't quite recall why.
She was perfect—but for one thing. His attention turned to her scar, the one she hadn't wanted him to see. He took her elbow and tugged her closer to the steam-fogged lamp, raising her arm. The mark covered about a third of the bottom of her forearm and looked like a typical burn scar, with white twisting lines contained within borders of red.
"You broke it, too?"
Her eyes widened before she made her face blank.
"When?"
She shrugged as best as she could with her arm seized. "I don't know. It happened a long time ago."
"You raised your arm against something that was burning. And it broke the bone."
Now her lips parted. "How could you…why would you say that?"
"I know scars." His lips curled in a bitter smile. "Where were you in a fire?"
She hesitated just a heartbeat, then said in a blithe tone, "At a manor we lived in. When I was younger. One of the servants was drunk and careless with his pipe."
"In other words, your garret caught fire from a drunken tenant."
She shuddered, then whispered, "I wasn't always poor, MacCarrick. I did live in a mansion, and there were servants and parties and friends."
"Aye, I know that."I'm the one who took it all away. "Or you'd hardly be friends with the Weylands."
"W-will you please let me go?"
His chest felt heavy and uncomfortable again, goading him until he released her.
She sank down into the water, her back to him, streams of her hair curling down. Her shoulders curved in miserably. Her ribs were visible, not terribly bad, but enough to show she'd missed meals.
Goddamn it.This was not the time to be developing a conscience. He cast about for something, anything, then recalled how much she'd insulted him this evening. "You've a lot of nerve to comment onmy scar."
She sucked in a breath.
He knew why he might be moved to say something like that at a time like this, but he wasn't too far gone toward absolute cruelty to understand why hemightn't have said it.
"Stand up and come here," he demanded. "I want to touch you more."
"No! It's bad enough baring my body to you, but to be ridiculed—"
"Ridiculed?" he asked, incredulous. "There's no' anything to ridicule!"
"The th-thing you said about my scar. And about my…my breasts being small."
"You did repeatedly insult me tonight, and it's no' as if I need you to remind me what I look like."
She peeked over her shoulder, her cheeks even more flushed.Does she feel guilty for her insults?
"As for your breasts, if you could no' tell by the raging cockstand I had while touching them, or when I outright told you I find you beautiful, I'll say it plain: I look at your wee body and reasoned thought leaves my brain. So if you want to see a man lose his mind, you'll come to me and let me touch you more." When she still didn't rise from the water, he said, "If you doona want my hands on you again, then come touch me."
She nibbled her lip at that. A promising enough answer for him. He promptly began to strip down, pulling his shirt over his head.
"Uh, wait! I don't want to do that either…." She trailed off, brows drawn as she stared at the stitches in his chest. "What happened to you?"
"Doona worry. It'll soon scar, and you'll have more to belittle about me."
Ignoring his comment, she said, "You've lost weight, too. Is this the injury you spoke of?"
"Aye."
"What happ
ened?" When he didn't answer, she quirked an eyebrow. "Scot, you really must stop running with scissors."
"You are such a daft lass." As he sat on a cushioned stool, removing his boots, he found himself telling her, "I was shot."
Curiosity lit her eyes. She leaned against the side of the tub, resting her chin on her hands."Shot?" She flashed him an expression of realization. "Nowonder you were afraid of the sounds of gunfire."
"I was no' bloody afraid—"
"So, who would shoot you?"
He shrugged. "A bad man."
"I can see you've had other serious injuries. So what do you do that's so dangerous? Are you some kind of renegade? Or insurgent? I know—you're a soldier of fortune!"
Ethan had never been secretive about what he did, only for whom he did it. "Maybe I'm a bit of each."
She opened her mouth to say more, but when he stepped out of his trousers, she turned away. He used the opportunity to join her in the water. She gasped, darting for the side to flee, but he caught her by the shoulders. Relaxing against the back of the tub, he dragged her to him, groaning when her breasts slid over his torso.
Gentle,he reminded himself as his hand rubbed down her back to cup her arse. He could still very well frighten her away, and after seeing her completely naked in the light, he didnot want to frighten her away.
When she pushed against him, he curled his hand around her nape, tugging her back.
"MacCarrick, no." She grabbed the sides of the tub to hold herself apart from him. "I'm not…I don't want this."
"Why no'?" he asked, skimming his forefinger between her breasts.
She shivered, but answered, "B-because I'm exhausted and overwhelmed. I just need tothink about all this."
Her arms were shaking with effort as she resisted, making her breasts quiver lusciously. Her nipples were hard and taunting him. He wanted to suck them for hours. He wanted her to touch him—
