Raising her right hand to eye level, she revealed the unsteady tremble that had come over her. “As you can see, I am afraid, and wish the introduction over. If you are so concerned for my sensibilities, as you put it, please reveal yourself and let us speak freely. I assume there is much to discuss.”
I stepped out from the curtains. I didn’t bother withholding my grin as another gasp escaped through her lips.
A beast I may be, but I also knew the effect I held over the weaker sex. It was encouraging to see that I could use my physique and appearance to weaken her knees, so to speak.
I stood at almost six foot one and had been described as the epitome of masculine perfection. I could see she agreed with that sentiment as she all but licked her lips. I had inherited my father’s strong face, with a defined jawline and a cleft in my chin that many females had stroked with soft fingertips.
We also shared the same hair color, that of the darkest black oil, but unlike my father, I didn’t tie it back with a ribbon like most men of the time did. I’d grown accustomed to letting it hang loose.
It was my piercing blue eyes, however, that many confided bored deep down into their souls, digging about for whatever secrets they kept hidden, and I could exploit. That wasn’t what made me appreciate them, though.
They were the eyes of my beloved mother—my champion. She was the one, had she lived long enough, who would’ve kept her only son from becoming a broken shell of his former self.
As much as I hated to admit it, my mother would’ve instantly approved of Catriona—pleased her darling son had found such a beautiful woman to marry. I could barely remember her voice, but something told me she would’ve uttered with pride how pleased she was.
I tried to view my bride-to-be as though I was peering out through my mother’s eyes. What would’ve caught her attention? What traits would she admire? I shook away the thought softly murmuring that there were plenty of attributes I found attractive. As my gaze attempted to take in Catriona’s appearance, there was no need to closely study her features—I already knew what I liked.
Her eyes. Philosophers shared that they were windows to the soul and everything you needed to know about the measure of a person could be found by taking a few moments to peer into their depths. Catriona’s eyes terrified me because the briefest of glances—the tiniest of peeks—had felt like the strike of a match . . . an instant desire. Not in a sexual way, although there was definitely a stirring of lust within me. No, her dark eyes all but promised that should I linger . . . should I cave to temptation . . . I would find myself lost. The clarity and intelligence that stared out at me struck a chord of warning that once distracted, I would gladly walk away from the life I knew and follow her to the ends of the earth.
I didn’t like that. I hated it. I refused to let another person control me or alter the path I had chosen to walk. A woman had been my downfall once before, and now this temptress stood before me—unaware of the power she held, the power that beckoned.
Her smile, a voice in my head gently pressed, forcing me to drop my gaze to Catriona’s mouth. While her lips were only slightly curled upward, there were moments where a smile came as the result of her seeing something that pleased her. I’d caught a glimpse as she stared up at my portrait, and there was a growing need building within my chest that wanted to see it again.
This was absolute absurdity. I didn’t want love. I wasn’t looking for it. I was half convinced to take her by the arm, drag her back through my home, and toss her out on her behind. I didn’t need a wife, or any kind of distraction, especially one that would no doubt prove to be trouble.
Yet all I could do was stare. By some miracle, I managed to keep my mouth shut, because I had the sinking suspicion that I would make myself look like a blithering buffoon or a lunatic incapable of speech.
I would need to act cautiously around her, never lowering my guard or showing any sign of softening.
I could see Catriona gathering her resolve, so she could push her fear aside.
I needed her afraid, however. If not for her, for me.
One moment I stood by the wall, and the next I was before her, grasping her hand with the intent to kiss it. Questions rose in her mind, shining out through her eyes. There was no need to ask her what they were—I had heard most of them before.
How did I move so fast?
Why did I toy with her like a cat plays with a mouse?
Why wasn’t I acting completely monstrous, instead keeping her unbalanced?
She lowered her eyes out of habitual respect, yet the nicety of the moment vanished when I flipped over her hand and buried my mouth in her palm, nudging the soft flesh with my lips. Her skin heated when I pushed her buttons further, the tip of my tongue caressing her skin in light swirls.
Her knees buckled this time, and without thought, my arms banded around her waist, pulling her flush against my hard body. Propriety demanded she ask to be released, and truth be told, I wasn’t quite sure I would honor it.
I liked how she felt.
Damn.
She couldn’t help but shudder with pleasure as I nipped at the meat of her palm with my teeth. Whatever resistance she’d felt all but melted away as she softened against me further.
Intriguing.
I curled my finger under her chin, raising it until she was looking up into my eyes. Common sense finally took back the reins, and she tried to back away, but I refused to release her.
I should have.
I should’ve returned to where I’d been standing and kept the space between us until I understood the lust now bubbling up within me. It was hard to believe such a frail female could be dangerous, but I could feel her presence chipping away at my intentions.
All I had wanted was to put a greater fear in her—help her understand that the life she’d once dreamed about was gone and lost forever.
Instead, my mouth came down over hers.
It was as if the heavens opened and a chorus of angels began to sing their praises. Passion burst through me, and as inexperienced as she was, it didn’t take her long to know what I expected.
As my tongue flicked out against her closed lips, she parted them willingly and actually groaned when I caught a taste of her.
Her hands moved up over my shoulders and wrapped around my neck. It sent off an alarm inside my brain—that she was taking liberties I hadn’t yet granted her. I was the master here—her master—and she touched me as though we were consensual lovers.
We would never be lovers in that sense. Ever.
My body betrayed me, and I tugged on the back of her head, my hands fisting in her thick, silky hair. I deepened the kiss, and with it, I almost lost what remained of my sanity.
Time seemed to stand still.
Her body began to rub against me, and I felt that familiar pressure building—one that felt urgent, hot, and needy.
I moved us, pinning her against one of the bookcases. Catriona gasped as my hands found her breasts, kneading them with my fingers.
Gripping onto my shoulders, gathering fistfuls of my shirt, she dipped her head back, and the movement exposed her throat.
I exhaled sharply—instantly stopping.
Her breath now came out in heavy pants, but that wasn’t what held me hostage.
My lips found her skin again, my tongue tracing the contour of her neck. It was the one spot that always controlled me, although I fought it with everything I had.
Her pulse.
Gently, I began sucking on the spot, and it caused her heart to race so fast, I could feel it against my mouth.
That was when I realized she wasn’t the one in the most danger.
It was also when I began second-guessing my decision to accept her as payment. There was nothing sweet and innocent about the young woman limp with pleasure in my arms.
No, she was much, much more than that.
There was a good chance she was one of Satan’s sirens—sent to tempt me to Hell with lust—the one who believed it
would be her to bring me into submission.
It was that last thought that acted like a much-needed slap in the face.
Dumping her unceremoniously on the floor, I fled from the room, driven from my own sanctuary like the Black Plague had returned to claim me as its victim.
I was no one’s victim—not anymore.
Never again.
Chapter 3
We didn’t talk again until a week later.
She was already moved in, Knox having placed her in a room that was as far away from me as possible. I didn’t want her entertaining any kind of illusion that she could tame me, or that she was in fact wanted.
She was a means to an end.
If there was one thing she could rely on from me, it would be that I was consistent.
I would consistently keep her at a distance.
I would consistently remind the annoying female I was not her knight in shining armor and there would be no happily ever after in her future.
It was the only offering I would bestow on her.
She ranked just below the discarded furniture stored away in the wing she now lived in. I felt some kind of emotion toward the antiques passed down through the generations, however.
I could at least see some functional use for them.
She’d finally spotted me passing through the kitchens quickly, having spent the past hour walking the estate. It had become my nightly routine and was one of the very few rituals that brought me any semblance of peace.
That contentment shattered as soon as I heard her shriek my name.
Truth be told, this confrontation was days overdue. Part of me had expected her to barge into each and every room in the house, searching to see where I’d been hiding.
What she didn’t understand was it wasn’t really hiding when you had zero intentions of spending time together in the first place.
My hands clenched by my side, and even though I willed them to relax, they simply tensed up again.
Would I ever be able to roam freely about my home again without being pestered?
“What happened?” Her voice was filled with accusation and anger.
I replied with stony silence. I didn’t care how much that unsettled her.
She reached out to touch me, an unforgivable act, and stumbled back when I moved like lightning, roughly grasping her wrist with a steel-like grip.
Tears flooded her eyes at the pain.
Bending her wrist slightly, I added enough pressure to elicit another moan of pain.
Damn, the sound was like a shot of pure, unadulterated lust to my groin. As she looked up at me, her rage was replaced with undiluted fear.
Gone was any semblance of defiance. In her eyes, the monster was fully unleashed.
I towered over her smaller form, forcing her to cower before me.
“Don’t ever make the mistake of touching me. You will not survive the consequences.” I kept my tone cold on purpose.
“I’m sorry.” Catriona cringed at the way her voice had quickly devolved from confident to whimpering. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to know what happened.”
“What do you mean? Nothing happened.” I spat the words out impatiently, releasing her wrist and brushing past her. I didn’t have time for such feminine nonsense.
“But the last time we spoke . . . you and I . . . we—” She had the decency to appear humiliated about bringing up last week, and the fact that I feigned ignorance.
I knew exactly what she referred to. Memories of the kisses we’d exchanged and the way she roused the man in me still plagued me at the most inopportune times.
I whirled around, wearing what I hoped was a look of complete derision. All I could see was the ghost of her swollen lips and the breathless way her chest had heaved with passion. Each step I now took toward her caused her to retreat—as though she recognized the predator in me and that she was prey to be stalked.
I shoved her to the door, finally pressing her body against the frame with my own.
It was infuriating how perfectly we fit and how incredible she smelled as the subtle perfume of her skin infiltrated my senses.
The wind blew, rustling the leaves on the tall trees that stood proudly in the gardens. There was no one but Knox around, but I had no idea whether she’d met him yet—whether he’d deemed her worthy of his attention. I kept him busy on projects of vital importance. It wouldn’t surprise me if he avoided her just as much as I did.
“There is no one to hear you scream, Catriona. No ally to protect you.” Without thinking, I traced the curve of her cheek with my finger. Too soft for her own good.
“Should I be crying out for help?” she countered bravely. I could see the thread of restraint that kept her from shrinking back from my touch. In some other lifetime . . . it was a thought I couldn’t indulge.
Loneliness could be something we held in common—separately.
She clutched the doorframe for strength.
“You think that inconsequential display of affection meant something? Did you suppose it’s something you can look forward to once we’re married? Or are you hoping for another taste, perhaps?” I searched her face for the answer and replied with a deep throaty laugh that flushed her cheeks with a mottled shade of red. “You did, didn’t you?”
She tried to hide the hurt she was feeling and failed. It was her own fault that she’d gotten caught up in the moment and romanticized me into someone with a heart. Someone with the ability to show and enjoy passion.
“Poor fool of a girl. How about some brutal honesty since we’re to be married? I took one look at you gazing at my portrait with such lovestruck eyes and felt nothing but pity for you.” I reached up and pushed a lock of hair back from her face. Instead of lowering my arm, I traced the side of her face as I crooned softly into her ear. “So soft. So innocent. So horribly naïve.”
Catriona tried to fight her way out of my tight embrace, but came up short because she was no match for my superior strength. Clutching the sides of her arms now, I shook her. Hard. The force caused her head to roll back and slam against the door.
My cruelty was rewarded with an unwanted twinge of guilt.
Had I truly become the very creature people accused me of being—that I often told myself I was? How had I completely lost sight of the young man I had once been before that fateful evening a decade ago?
I instantly squashed that emotion. It would only undermine the person I had to be in order to survive the curse.
“Let. Me. Go,” she demanded through gritted teeth.
“Not until we get this foolishness of yours resolved. Consider what happened a gift, the only one you will ever receive from me. The man in that portrait is dead, and no amount of girlish charm will resurrect him. Accept that and we may be able to reside alongside each other in tentative peace. All thoughts of affection, loving gestures, sweet whispered words are fruitless. You will receive none from me. This is an arrangement that comes from the ridiculous begging of your father. The man is a fool who squandered his fortune and then expected someone to reach into their pockets and save him. Nothing in this life is free. Everything has a price, and you, Catriona, are the price for your family’s pride and vanity.”
Her temper rose again in her eyes. I’d besmirched her father’s name directly to her face. Her hands formed into claws, and I knew she wanted to reach up and scratch my eyes out for showing such dishonor.
I grasped her arm and brutally squeezed.
“That got your attention. Learn now that I won’t be ignored. When I speak, you would do well to hang on my every word as though it came from the mouth of God. I’m to be obeyed and maybe, just maybe, you will survive this farce of a life forced on both of us.”
“You bastard!” She raised her hand to slap me across the face and almost connected before I wrenched it away. I’d finally found the limit to her patience and self-control.
“So you’re not the submissive mouse you pretend to be. Good to know. It can be beaten ou
t of you, if you think to push me. Don’t ever think you can raise your hand to strike me. In three days, I will own you, and you’ll be mine to do with as I please. Play the role of the dutiful wife well, and I may just leave you alone. Annoy me, and you’ll wish you’d never stepped foot in this house. Do I make myself clear?”
Catriona refused to look at me, another rush of defiance keeping her from caving to my demands. It was as if she silently challenged me to do my worst.
Foolish. Very, very foolish. I hoped she never got to witness firsthand the extremes I had, and would go to, in order to get what I wanted.
“I asked you a question.”
Resentment shone from her eyes as she met my gaze. She realized she truly was a prisoner here, that I was her warden, and that returning to her former life was a hopeless cause. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she fully understood the extent of her situation.
What she didn’t know was that I was just as much a prisoner to this life as she was.
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Now go away and do something. I’m sure you have things that will occupy your time here. If you don’t, talk with the maid I’ve hired for you, and see what she suggests. I trust we won’t have to meet too often once we’re married. It may serve you well to find a friend.”
Catriona nodded her head, biting on her bottom lip. She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand, and when I finally let her move freely, she turned to retrace her steps out of the kitchen. Right before she left, with her back to me, she asked one last question.
“What about children?”
My incredulous gasp answered it.
“What makes you think I would want to bring children into this shamble of a life?”
Her mouth popped open with a gasp. I’d shocked her.
“You want no sons? No heirs?” Judging from her response, the idea was beyond anything she could understand. It was something that society drummed into us from childhood—that the greatest accomplishments a man could achieve was his ability to pass his legacy on to his children. Her gaped mouth showed she’d never met anyone who thought the idea of it a joke.
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