If You Deceive mb-3

by Kresley Cole

  Bugger this. He knew a fine way to shake his attachment to her, like a fish throwing a lure that pains it.

  He'd promised himself that he'd get Madeleine tucked away somewhere, then glut himself on other women, enjoying the return of his appetites. If he could get hard with Madeleine at the drop of a hat at his age, five times a day if he chose, then he was obviously cured.

  Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He'd take his predilections and spend them on a woman of experience, reverting to his old cruel self. Then he could make the break with Madeleine that he'd planned from the beginning. He could go back to work—to the solitary job he was truly suited for.

  Decided, he said, "You're so ready to throw me over, I'll respond in kind." He stormed out, leaving her with her chin jutting up, then rode for the village.

  When he reached a quayside inn, he strode inside the downstairs tavern, shoulders back, with all the confidence of a man who'd been slaking himself with a woman like Madeleine—a beauty who was longing to marry him. Or she had been. Now she was leaving. Didn't matter. He was done with her anyway. Hehad to be.

  He sank down into a booth, noticing that the establishment was filled today. All these poor bastards must be trying to escape their wives.No' the life for me.

  Let her go.He couldn't keep on like this. The last three nights he'd tried to distance himself, but only ended up pacing his room and drinking because he couldn't bloody sleep without her.

  The guilt for her pain was razor sharp inside him.

  Take another and forget her. Just common sense…

  He spotted an attractive, dark-haired barmaid giving him a measuring smile—and she'd seen both sides of his face. She wore a choker like the one Madeleine had that night in Paris, though it didn't look a fraction as good.

  But this woman had big breasts, which he'd always liked. He'd rub his face on them. On the ship, he'd done that with Madeleine's little ones, and she'd gone wild. He had run his shadow-bearded chin over her nipples, abrading her, then suckling her. She'd melted, coming for him before he'd even glanced at her sex.

  His ballocks began to ache, and blood pooled in his groin. The woman glanced at his erection and wrongly assumed it was for her. She got breathless, those breasts heaving. No, his cockstand wasn't for her—but did it matter? If he had to fantasize about Maddy to tup this trollop, then so be it.

  Break free. The alternative was unimaginable.

  Two whiskies later, another wench with pouty lips caught his eye. For some reason, her expression said she liked what she saw.

  Three whiskies after that and before he knew what had happened, he was entering a room upstairs with the raven-haired barmaid. He stumbled to close the door behind them, and, surprise—her pouty-lipped friend had decided to join them.

  Just like old times. Ethan knew his grin was wicked. A mancouldn't change his nature.

  Maddy sat on her widow's walk, hours ticking by as she waited for the coach. Silently crying, she watched the ferries bandying between the coasts for the last time.

  MacCarrick hadn't returned.

  What had she expected? Ethan on his knees begging for another chance? Or even politely seeing her on her journey? She angrily swiped at a tear.

  She already missed him. Yes, he'd been horrid to her in the days, but those nights with him, filled with passion and pleasure and tenderness…she'd never felt closer to another person in her entire life.

  Should I have fought for us more, given him more time?

  She shook her head sadly. Maddy well knew that affection couldn't be forced. She couldn't make him miss her. She'd done everything she could think of to make him want her.

  And yet still the regret came.Would I rather stay with him as we've been or live a life without him?

  She swallowed. Maddy had drawn a line with the Scot, and perhaps she oughtn't to have.

  Another tear streaked down her face. Especially since she'd gone and fallen completely in love with him.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The barmaid tried to kiss his lips but Ethan turned away, instead kissing her neck. He brushed against that ribbon choker, just as he'd done with Maddy that first night in Paris—before he'd had any idea what she would grow to mean to him.

  The woman didn't taste bad, but she tastedwrong . She smelled good, but it wasn'tright .

  Imagine Madeleine's scent. Imagine the taste of her soft skin.

  As the barmaid unbuttoned his shirt, her pouty-lipped friend kissed his chest. When the two had his shirt off, they took turns leisurely kissing down to his navel, and he knew what would follow. Madeleine had enjoyed taking him with her mouth, somehow making the act wanton and adoring at the same time.

  One of the women began unfastening his belt.

  "…taken so little to make me fall in love with you,"Madeleine had said. All she wanted was a faithful husband who treated her well—and she would fall in love with him.

  In love. Withhim ?

  If she loved him, then she would have to forgive him what he'd done to her in the past.

  She wouldhave to. Because he hadn't known her then and had never intended to hurt her. But now…if he did this…

  Shouldn't he at least attempt to make her love him before he gave up on everything? Hadn't he learned from her that you fought for something you wanted?

  "Stop," he grated. But they didn't, instead attending to his trousers.

  Let them…Here he could take a woman, two of them, and hewouldn't? What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He'd dreamed of this day, when he would finally be a man again. He'd vowed that he would glut himself. Madeleine should have given him what he'd wanted. And she sure as hell shouldn't have selfishly pressured him, harping on marriage. Ethan didn't respond well to pressure—

  Madeleine would fall in love withhim .

  Clarity hit him like a lightning strike.

  Ah, God, it's Maddy. It's her.It wasonly her for him. It would always be.

  "Stop!"Ethan roared, plucking their fingers away and shoving himself back. He stumbled, rocked to the core. Maddy was his future embodied, yet he was behaving like before, ten years ago when he'd thought he could have no future.Weak, drinking, accepting… when, at the same age, she'd been fighting tooth and nail for a better life. He could fight for her; hecould change, as profoundly as his brother had said.

  But Ethan was about to do something so idiotic—so irrevocable—that he would still lose his lass forever. He shuddered.

  "What's the matter with you?" the barmaid asked, her tone baffled.

  Remembering that night all those years ago, how cruel he'd been to Sylvie—and to those barmaids—and how he'd been punished for it, he said, "Sorry, ladies, but I'm married, and I'm acting the fool." An utter fool. He refastened his belt and buttoned his shirt, wadding up his jacket under his arm.

  The second one said, "It's not like married men stop enjoying other women."

  "This one will."

  They sighed, and the first said, "Your wife's very lucky to have you."

  "Other way around," he assured them before striding from the room to stomp down the stairs.

  Ethan was a man accustomed to feeling strongly, yet he had never feltanything like the growing frenzy that seized him at the thought of Maddy leaving him. Ah, God, he was in a bad way. He wanted the love of one woman, craved it, coveted it. Likely about to lose it.

  Tumbling a pair of tavern trollops. Bloody brilliant, Ethan. What the hell were you thinking?

  What time was it?Three thirty . The coach arrived at five. If he rode hard, he'd make it back to Carillon in time. But if he went back to her empty-handed, with only tired promises, she still might go. He could ride for the village's registrar office to try for a special license, but he would risk missing her.

  Unfortunately, he could never predict her behavior. If she left before he could reach her, she might make up her mind never to take him back. Hell, it might be too late anyway, after his own behavior over the last few days—but he had to try.

&n
bsp; Deciding quickly, he rode straight for the registrar's. Doubts about the secrets of his past continued to resurface, but he pushed them away.Get her , his mind kept commanding.Make her yours.

  Ethan would figure out the restafter he made sure she didn't leave him today.

  He stormed into the registrar's office more frantic than he'd ever been. The village official was understandably terrified of the unshaven, scarred Highlander smelling of whisky and pounding his fist on the counter. Ethan dimly heard the man relating that it would take days for a special license, and himself replying that this was sodding Scotland, the land of marital loopholes—oh, and that he would build the village a grand new church in exchange.

  A church—what a fitting penance. Forty-five minutes later, marriage license in hand, he ran from the building, mounting up and riding hell-bent for Carillon….

  Ethan's father had once told him that a man would know the woman he was meant to be with because she made him weak. Till he claimed her and she made him strong.

  Maddy had only been waiting for him.

  His gut tightened when he spotted the posting coach up the hill, nearing Carillon, and he raced even faster. Barely beating it to the drive, he dropped from his horse, his wound aching.

  He caught sight of her standing at the end of the drive, her bags at her feet. She looked like a perfect lady, wearing her black kid gloves and her hat with the sheerest black veil falling to her cheeks. But at the same time, she appeared cold as ice. He knew without a doubt that if he'd missed her, she would have left him and never looked back.

  He wanted her so much, wanted her for the rest of his life. And the remarkable thing was that, as of yesterday, she would've accepted a bastard like him. Would she now?

  Brows drawn, struggling to catch his breath, he held up the license. "Marry me, lass?"

  She tilted her head.

  Wee sionnach, wary as ever. And why wouldn't she be? He'd never made the smallest effort to make her feel comfortable or secure. She hadn't been selfish to insist on the marriage—she'd been savvy. "Ten o'clock tomorrow morning. If you'll have me, Maddy, I'll be good tae you," he said with conviction, withfeeling . Because he meant it. "I've been a bloody fool tae treat you this way."

  "Why have you been so cruel?" she asked in an inscrutable tone. "Youcame to Paris forme, remember?"

  He strode toward her. "And that was the best damned decision I've made in my entire life." He swallowed to see the coach was nearing. "Maddy, I ken I've been acting like a bastard. I said that you could no' do better than me, but that's no' true in any way. I know it more than anybody." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I never lived my life thinking another would share my name. My name and I are a bit…tarnished. You'd probably do well to leave me right now—no matter how badly I want you to stay."

  She glanced past him to the coach. She didn't seem even to be listening to him.No, she has to stay.

  When he stood just before her, he said, "Maddy, I doona know if I'll be any good at this, at being a husband, but Iwant tae be. I want tae assume my title again and watch over our lands. But only if you agree tae be my lady. If you can just see your way tae forgive me—"

  "You're saying you will give up whatever your dangerous profession is?" she asked, still not facing him.

  "If it means I get to keep you, then, aye, gladly."

  "Is the marriage license why you were away for so long?"

  He flushed uncomfortably. "I had to promise the village a new church to get it," he said, hedging.

  "What's changed between this morning and now?"

  "I finally saw what was right before me." At last, she met his eyes. "Say you'll marry me."

  She was silent for what felt like an eternity before she murmured, "Very well."

  He stared down in shock, knees about to buckle with relief. "You mean…you will…tae me…in the morning?"

  She nodded. "But don't make me regret it, Ethan."

  "You will no'." He clasped her to his chest with shaking hands and buried his face in her hair.That's the scent I like. "I was behaving like an imbecile before."

  How in the hell had he thought to jeopardize this? He felt as if he'd just dodged a bullet—and having caught several, he didn't feel this lightly.

  If she knew where he'd been, it would devastate her. She would gaze up at him, her big blue eyes spilling tears, and he'd tear at his chest, clawing out his bloodied heart in offer to get her to stop.

  He squeezed her harder. When the coach pulled to a stop, he waved it away, calling out, "She's stayin'." Once the coach rolled on, Ethan turned back to her with a grin, but she laid her head against his chest as if just savoring the closeness.

  "I've missed you, Ethan." Her voice was so sultry that he shuddered with instant lust for her. He hadn't touched or tasted her body for three days, but it felt like a lifetime.

  He leaned down to steal a kiss from her, intending only a brief contact. But as ever with her, the kiss turned explosive. Holding her as he took her mouth again and again, he leaned her back over his arm, his free hand gripping her bottom.

  When she moaned into his mouth, he somehow drew back, righting them. Shaking his head hard, he yanked his hand from her backside. "Someone will see," he grated. And for once, he cared. He'd not have his wife thought badly of.

  "It's market day. Everybody's in town."

  So that was why the tavern had been packed. Christ, had anyone seen him? Would it get back to her?

  "Have you not missed me?" she asked softly, shyly, her meaning clear.

  "You canna imagine, but I can wait until after the wedding. It's what you wanted."

  "Can't we…be as we were before? During those nights?"

  The idea of her yearning as he did was too powerful. "Anythin'," he rasped, swooping her up in his arms. "Whatever you like." He kissed her, even as he hastened inside, then up the stairs. He nearly stumbled on the landing when she cupped his face and lapped her little tongue at his mouth.

  As soon as he'd kicked the bedroom door closed behind him, they were grasping at each other's clothes between frantic kisses. Once he'd gotten her down to her shift, he shrugged out of his shirt.

  She worked on his belt with both hands. "God, I want to…" She trailed off, gazing at him with her brows drawn. "Ethan, why do you have lip rouge below your navel?"

  Oh, bloody hell.

  "In two different shades?"

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  "I…It's no'…"And he was so close to telling her some fantastic lie, but for the first time in his life—when he needed to the most—he couldn't.

  Not even when her eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled and she whispered, "Ethan?"

  The look she gave him before running to her room made him realize his bloodied heart was too black to be offered.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  "Idinnado anything!" he bellowed yet again outside Maddy's door.

  Maddy had gone from the lowest low to the highest high and back down again. When she'd caught sight of Ethan riding for Carillon, racing the coach, her heart had leapt. Then seeing him in the drive, clutching that license with his brows drawn—she'd been overcome.

  But now…"Just go away!"

  After all the heartaches and tragedies she'd endured, she thought this one hurt the worst. Why did she keep believing in him when he'd never given her any reason to?

  "Damn it, I did go to the tavern and get a room. I admit that, but I could no' do it. I told them to stop!"

  "So therewere two?" she cried, suddenly needing to vomit. She'd seen the evidence but had fought against believing he'd just been with not one but two women.

  "Wait, wait, now, that sounds worse than it was—"

  "You took two women upstairs to a private bedroom—or perhaps it was more than two?"

  "But I dinnado anything with them."

  "Of course not! You stopped their kisses at just below your navel. Most men see reason and make excellent judgments when a woman's mouth is just above their groin. Espe
cially when they're drunk!"

  "I could no' do it. For Christ's sake, I'll take you to the tavern and you can ask them." His tone turned bewildered when he said, "You've bloody ruined me for other women."

  Though she fought it, for some reason she did believe that hehad stopped before he'd had sex withthem . But it didn't matter. "You are not even two weeks into our relationship, and you sound proud of yourself that you weren't unfaithful? What would happen if we were married for years?"

  "Do you no' think you're getting ahead of yourself?"

  "Oooh, you're amazing! I wish I'd never met you. I'm an idiot! How many times will it take for me to learn that you're a hateful man?"

  And now she had to wait another two days for the posting coach.

  "Fine. Have it your way."

  She lay down, knees to her chest, having no idea how many hours passed, and still she cried. She heard him inside his room, pacing again and again before getting in bed.

  How can he sleep through this…?

  She heard bitter grumbling in Gaelic, then more pacing.

  "Bugger this," he muttered, then directly outside the door, he said, "I canna sleep without you."

  "Learn to."

  "Even had I done something—which Idinna —we're no' even bloody married yet."

  Hateful."And you just ensured we never will be."

  On the second night, Ethan could scarcely believe that he was pacing outside a woman's locked dooragain , asking to come in.

  She'd bewitched him. Ach, he missed sleeping with her. And she had cried for hours last night, solely to agonize him, he was sure of it. To torture him for his unthinking words and actions.

  She hadn't been able to see, but if one of his comments in their argument had been harsh, he'd cringed behind the door. When he fought, he fought to draw blood, and it was a hard habit to break—even though hurting her now hurthim .

  He'd wanted to go to her so badly, but the way she'd looked at him before slamming the door in his face had kept him from pushing her.

  Yet now…

  "Enough of this, Maddy. You've punished me enough. I have a right to sleep with you."