If You Deceive - Cole Kresley - Страница 33
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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 happened?" 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—
The image of her pounding her fist on the floor of that tavern flashed in his mind. Reminded of the weary resolve he'd seen, he studied her face. He could see faint smudges beneath her eyes. The day she'd had would throw anyone.
Her hands were slipping along….
"Though you tempt me sorely, I'll let you go so you can rest tonight," he said, disbelieving what he was hearing himself say. "For a kiss."
She flashed him an expression of disappointment and in a deadened tone said, "Fine. Get it over with."
He moved his hands to cradle her face, making her frown. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs as he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, then her mouth with a mere brushing of his lips against hers.
When he released her, it took her a moment to blink open her eyes.
"The first rule of a successful cull," she murmured, "give a little, then take it all."
"Am I to get away with nothing, Madeleine?" he asked, amused for some reason. As he stifled a smile, her gaze dipped to his lips. She looked like she might kisshim . But then she abruptly twisted from his hold to rise from the water.
When she stepped out and turned for a towel, he was surprised to see his hand reach out to swat her adorable arse. She swiftly covered herself, casting him a startled glance over her shoulder. But whatever she saw in his expression made her give him a baffled half grin.
Then she sauntered out of the room, collecting her ring, actually seeming more relaxed.
As he finished washing, he wondered how he could be so bloody jovial when his shaft throbbed miserably. He told himself it was only because she'd accepted the plan. He'd won the first battle.
It is no' because she's accepted me, agreed to marry me….
After drying off, he returned to the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He found her dressed in one of his shirts with the sleeves rolled up. It hung off her shoulders and down to her knees. Around her neck, she wore the ring on that long, red ribbon.
She'd also borrowed a pair of his thick gray socks. They swallowed her feet, bunching down around her ankles. She nibbled her lip, rubbing one wee foot over the other, and again his chest felt tight. "I hope you don't mind."
"No, no' at all."Can she possibly be more fetching…?
"How are we to, um, sleep?" she asked.
He stiffened, his mood souring. "Doona care."Just as long as it's not with me.
She padded to the linen closet for a blanket and pillow as though she'd read his mind. "Oh, well, you see, I don't really sleep well with anyone in the bed with me."
Ethan drew his head back. "Soyou doona want to share a bed withme ?" After all those women in his past who'd yearned to sleep with him, this chit looked as if the prospect was appalling.
"That's part of the reason that I wanted my own room," she said. "But I'll happily settle on the divan—"
Swooping her up, he ignored her sputtering protests and dumped her in the bed. He'd make her sleep with him—just to punish her for being contrary. If she hadn't weighed less than a feather, his wound would've been singing, but he didn't care. "You'll be in this bed with me tonight." After throwing off his towel, he joined her.
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