'None of my options seemed enticing, and then I thought of you. After I asked around and learned much about you, I determined we would suit. You're known to have a steady, practical personality, and to be intelligent.'
'You could make a much more advantageous match.'
'You underestimate your charms.'
'No, I don't. I know I'm pretty and intelligent, but I have no connections—and no dowry. In case you haven't gathered, I'm abysmally poor.'
'I have no need of connections and have more money than either of us could possibly spend in a lifetime. I can choose my bride based only on if I find herpretty andintelligent .'
She quirked an eyebrow at that. 'Why do you thinkI would actually haveyou ?'
'You told me at the masquerade that you wanted to marry a man with money. I have money. You told me you wanted an expensive ring, and I've given you one worth a small fortune. You'll be a countess and have more wealth and homes at your disposal than you've dreamed of.'
Homes and wealth? Countess?Was this odd Scot genuine? Hadn't she just begged for one break? One pause in the endless series of heartaches?
And then this MacCarrick just happened to show up at her door, proposing?
No! Gifts don't fall from heaven like this! Not for me. Something is off!
'All you have to do is leave Paris with me. I'll wed you in Scotland.'
'Why not marry here inla ville lumière ?' In a dry tone, she said, 'You're clearly such a romantic, and thisis Paris…'
'Because I'm the laird of my clan, and I'm expected to marry at the MacCarrick seat with a grand wedding for all the clan to enjoy. And marrying in front of witnesses from my county in Scotland will help ensure my children inherit without challenge.' When she remained unconvinced, he quietly said, 'Money, protection, a life of ease are all within your grasp. Marriage to me is that repulsive a proposition?' He absently dashed the back of his hand over his scar.
'Yes, and before you begin thinking it's because of your face'—he dropped his hand, seeming surprised he'd been touching it—'I'll ask you to hark back to your behavior that night. You ruined what could have been,should have been, wonderful. I thought I had a firm grasp of what cruelty was, but you educated me further.'
'It was no' that bad—'
'Yes, I've heard some women enjoy overeager Highlanders pawing at them, nearly ripping their clothes off, then delivering excruciating pain. For some reason, I just couldn't understand the appeal.' She shrugged. 'I'll bet it eats at you, knowing that I found you to be a horrible lover.'
The black look he gave her was rewarding. 'Given the chance to do things over, I'd have done them differently.'
'Is that supposed to be an apology?'
'I doona believe in apologies. Instead, I'm offering you a future, which is more valuable.'
'That night, you kept going even though I was hurt.'
'I dinna know—'
'You mean to tell me that an experienced man of the world couldn't tell when a woman beneath him is in pain and on the verge of sobbing?'
Did he stifle a wince? 'You had a mask on. I could no' see your tears. And I swear to you, I stopped as soon as I realized.'
'Right. And then you…you finished what you'd started, adding to the humiliation.'
'I dinna intend to humiliate you. That was…involuntary.'
She frowned. 'Involuntary? What does…?' She trailed off, feeling herself flush at the notion of him overcome with lust. 'Oh. Well, the fact remains that even when you realized, you almost didn't stop.'
'But I did. And one day you'll understand just how goddamned difficult that was.' He looked to the right of her and said absently, 'It's hard for you to imagine because you were feeling pain, but I was no'.' His brows drew together as if remembering the encounter right then—an idea that made her shiver. 'I was feeling more pleasure than I had in years.'
'Then whydid you stop?'
'I dinna want to hurt you.' He turned back to meet her eyes. 'I suppose that means I'm no' yet thoroughly beyond redemption.'
'Redemption? I hope you didn't come here expectingme to redeem you, MacCarrick, because if so, you've chosen the wrong girl.'
'No, I came here expecting you to marry me.' Raking his heated gaze over her, he said, 'And I think I got her right.'
Chapter Nineteen
Ethan was confounded by how much shewasn't jumping at this opportunity.
'So how rich are you? As rich as Quin?'
'No. Quite a deal more than Quin.'
Instead of being pleased by this, her face turned cold. 'You're rich, titled, and not too terribly old. You could have anyone you wanted. Yet you chose a dowryless girl you don't know?'
Too terribly old?'I've already explained this.'
'And I don't accept your explanation. Something is wrong with you or your situation, and you're hiding it. You chose me, a foreign girl, so I wouldn't have heard about unsavory predilections or tales of gin-swilling or shaky finances—'
'I doona drink liquor. My finances are solid.' He wondered why he sounded so fierce about this, when he had no intention of marrying her. 'And the only unsavory predilection I have is that I plan to use you well, until we're both spent, every single night.'
Her face screwed up into an expression of distaste. 'Would you really want me, knowing that the only reason I'd accept a man like you is because I'd rather forgo hunger pangs and torture by henchmen?'
'Does no' matter why. Just that you do.'
'It doesn't feel right to me. I know how aristocratic lords are—there'salways something wrong, always some secret.' Though he wouldn't have thought it possible, he realized she was more cynical than he was.
In a deliberate tone, he asked, 'Are the reasons why I have no' made a match no' obvious?'
'Because of your foot-long scar?' She rolled her eyes.
'Damn it, witch, it's no' that long,' he said between gritted teeth.
'Maybe it's not if you measure end to end, but if you trace every turn, it is.'
How badly he'd wanted a woman to acknowledge the scar, to get the awkwardness out of the way. And here this chit was looking him in the eyes, facing him fully, discussing it—but not in any manner he'd ever imagined. 'You're daft.'
With a huff of irritation, she crossed to his spot on the bed. She lifted a knee to the edge, tilting her head as she studied his face. She smelled of strawberries and sweet woman, and his cock shot harder. He was struggling not to clutch her waist and roll her to the bed—
She…touchedhis scar.
Biting her lip, concentrating, she traced her finger along it.
A beautiful woman was touching his face—analyzingit. The mark was disgusting—why wasn't she repelled?
When she apparently couldn't get the length she'd claimed, shetugged on his face. He willed himself not to snatch her hand away, anxious to see what she would do next.What will she say? What will she call me…?
At last, she simply seemed to grow bored with it. 'Well, perhaps I was wrong,' she conceded. 'But the scaris big—very big. How did you get it? Did it hurt?'
'Of course, it bloody hurt,' he snapped, reminded as ever that she was the daughter of the one who'd dealt him that blow.
