Her Reluctant Groom (10 page)

“
Depends on who it is.”

“
Me.”

She grinned. “Hmm, and do you think during dinner you can keep your eyes trained either on your plate or my face?”

“
I'll try. But I make no guarantees.”

“
In that case, you may stay,” she said with a sigh. “Oh, wait, I have another condition.”

“
Too late.” He stood. “You already agreed to let me stay. You don't get to change your mind now.”

“
Oh please, Marcus,” she cried, feigning distress. “You used to let me change my mind all the time when we were children.”

His gaze fell from her eyes and settled on her chest. “But you're clearly not a child anymore,” he remarked, making heat crawl up her face and her breasts swell at his compliment.

Trying to act unaffected by him, she shrugged. “No, I'm not, but are you?” she goaded, leveling a stare at his groin. Earlier she really wasn't so interested in seeing his parts. She'd merely wanted to even up the score, so to speak. Now that she'd read that book, her interest was sincere. She truly wanted to know what he concealed behind those buckskin trousers.

“
That had better not be your condition, or you'll find yourself eating alone,” he said, twisting his lips into what she assumed he intended to be a sneer.

“
It's not.” She waved her hand dismissively.

He relaxed. “All right, what's your second condition?”

“
Could you bring me back a book from the library?”

“
What do you have in mind?”

She shrugged. “Surprise me.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Be more specific,” he ground out.

“
A romance should do.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes took on a cold look. “I'll be right back with your book. Don't take that robe off while I'm gone. I'll not be made to stand in the hall of my own house again.”

She watched him leave and smiled cheekily at his back. If she were a braver, younger woman who thought she had an honest chance of catching his eye, she'd do exactly that. She'd take that robe off, stuff it under the bed and lounge on the bed in the seductive way Lady Bird had described in her book. But Emma wasn't that daring and brave. She was the younger sister to the woman who'd ruined his life.

Emma put the book away and resumed her spot on the bed, just in time to watch Marcus carry a giant wooden box into the room.

“
Here you are. Every romance book I own.” Marcus set the crate on the bed.

Emma blinked at him. “I can only read one at a time.”

Marcus’ grey eyes pierced her. “I know. I don't play games, Emma. You can pick your own book.”

“
Right,” she murmured, picking up the first book her fingers found. “This one should do.” She should have named off an author or a book she knew he had, rather than do something like Louise would do. Louise would ask him to buy her something every time he went as far as the village. She'd never tell him what she wanted or give him any idea of what she had in mind. She'd be as vague as could be. Then when he came back with something, she'd find fault with it and pout. Emma had little doubt if Louise had done these things before Marcus had offered her marriage, he'd have moved away from her faster than a man walking barefoot on a bed of hot coals. Unfortunately for Marcus, Louise hadn’t started her childish games until just after the ink was dry on the contract. By then, it was too late for him to end the relationship without a scandal and a breach of contract suit, at the least.

“
Very well,” Marcus said, putting the crate on the floor.

Emma put the book on the nightstand and looked at Marcus. “If you don't mind, I'll return your dressing robe to you in the morning,” she said for lack of anything else to say.

“
There's no hurry.” He sat down and stretched out his long legs. “I won't need it tonight.” He crossed his arms and leaned his head back to rest on the back of the chair.

“
That's a relief to hear,” she said a bit sarcastically. “After dinner, I'll go up to my room.”

His eyes popped open. “No, you won't. I told you earlier, that cut of yours needs to heal, and the best way for it to do so is with you lying in bed with your legs spread.” When they both flushed crimson, Marcus said, “You know what I meant.”

She knew exactly what he'd meant. But after reading that book, she couldn't help getting the unintentional innuendo and mental image that went with it out of her head. “I can heal just as well upstairs.”

“
I agree. However, by the time you get upstairs, you're likely to have reopened it with all that walking and rubbing together of your thighs. Best not to chance it. You can sleep in here.”

“
And where will
you
be sleeping?”

“
Don't worry, it won't be in here,” he said roughly. “I'll push the two settees in my study together and sleep there.”

“
No. I'll go upstairs. You need your bed. If you sleep on those hard settees, your leg will be paining you in the morning.”

“
It already is,” he retorted.

“
I told you not to carry me.” She crossed her arms. “I told you I could walk and take care of myself, but no, the almighty Lord Sinclair had to step in and be the hero of the day and carry me down the hall.”

His sharp eyes pinned her. “Are you finished?”

“
No, I'm not. It's your own fault you hurt your leg this afternoon, and you're so thickheaded you're willing to do it again. But I have something to say that might come as a shock for you, my lord. That will not happen. After dinner, I will return to my room.”

He shook his head. “No. You're going to stay tucked up nice and warm in this bed, and if you suggest otherwise again, I'll tie you to it.”

She snorted. “You're just looking for an excuse to tie me to your bed, aren't you?”

“
No, I'd rather you stay here willingly. But if you won't—” he shrugged— “then I'll make sure you do one way or another.”

Emma scooted to the far end of the bed. She wasn't so terribly hurt she couldn't walk down the hall and up the stairs to her room. She'd prove it to him. Right now. She clenched the edges of his robe together, then put her feet over the edge and lowered them to the floor.

“
What the deuce do you think you're doing?” Marcus barked.

“
Leaving.” She stood up and carelessly started walking toward the door. After a step, she realized her folly. In her haste, she’d forgotten to widen her stance. She clenched her teeth together to hide her grimace as she readjusted her gait.

“
Get back here,” he commanded, standing.

She steeled her spine. “No. I've imposed on your generosity enough today. I thank you for helping me earlier, but I think I'm well enough to leave now.”

“
The devil you are.” He moved closer to her. “Emma, get back in the bed before you start bleeding again.”

She shook her head. “You're not my father or mother, nor my nursemaid, nor my husband. I do not have to do what you tell me.”

Marcus’ fists clenched and he shoved them in his pockets. “You're right,” he said softly. “I cannot make you do anything, but I am asking you to get back in the bed, please.”

“
No.” She shook her head vigorously. “Marcus, I know your leg hurts and I know it will hurt worse if you sleep anywhere other than your own bed. I'll not be the cause of any undue pain.”

“
You won't be.”

“
Yes, I will. You've already carried me today. You can’t deny that made it hurt worse than it already did. And don't think for one minute I believe it didn't hurt earlier. I know better than that. You came up the stairs a few nights ago, and though I may not have been a frequent or welcomed guest at Ridge Water in the past, I've been around enough to know you don't walk up the stairs unless you absolutely must.” She smiled at his blank face. “I also know, like nearly every other house in this country that has more than one floor, there is not another room with a bed on this level, which means you'll either have to hurt yourself again by walking up the stairs or sleep on a stiff settee. You'll have your bed.”

“
Emma,” he said quietly. “You were always a welcomed guest here.”

She paused and stared at him. Her heart was torn. She'd always longed to be welcomed at Ridge Water, and not just because she was visiting Caroline or Olivia. She blinked away the thoughts. “That's all you heard of that?” she asked in disbelief.

“
That was all that was important.” He shrugged and raised what was left of his eyebrows. “The rest was a bunch of nonsense I chose to ignore.”

“
You're impossible,” she muttered, pushing past him.

His hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders to stay her. “You're not leaving.”

“
Yes, I am.” She pushed on his solid chest.

“
Not until I've determined that leg of yours is better.” He wrapped his arms around her midsection and carried her back to the bed.

“
And when will Marcus the Physician decide I’m well enough to go about my day without his acting as my guardian angel?” she asked sardonically.

He chuckled. “In a day, perhaps two,” he said, laying her on the bed.

As soon as he'd put her down and removed his hands, she tried to roll to the other side of the bed. He reached forward and grabbed her about the waist. “Let go,” she squealed as he pulled her back toward him.

“
No,” he answered, climbing on the bed and kneeling while still holding onto her.

“
Please, Marcus. Let go of me. I know you think I'm being a pain in your hindquarters, but I'm really not trying to be. I don't want you to hurt unnecessarily.”

He flipped her over. “We're at a crossroads, then.” He placed a knee on each side of her to keep her firmly down on the bed. “I don't want you to hurt, either.”

“
My injury is hardly an injury at all,” she protested, wiggling her shoulders to get free.

“
It's an injury just the same.” His voice was silky and rich.

She blinked up at him and stilled. In his pale eyes she could see the things he didn't know how to put into words. He wasn't trying to control or hurt her, he was trying to protect her the only way he could.

“
Can we make a compromise?”

He groaned. “I don't think so.”

“
You haven't even heard it.”

“
I don't need to. I already know what you're going to say.”

Emma frowned. “No, you don't.”

“
Yes, I do.” He grabbed her hands and pushed them back to rest above her head, his fingers slipping in between each of hers. He leaned his head down, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “You're going to tell me you'll only sleep in this bed if I sleep in it, too.”

“
How did you know?” she whispered, her breathing hard and labored.

The pads of his thumbs lightly caressed the outsides of hers. “Because I know you, Emma. And while I know your thoughts are completely pure and naive, mine are not. If we share a bed tonight, you might not be so happy with that decision in the morning,” he whispered before pressing a sweet kiss on her lips

Emma couldn't help the gasp that passed her lips when he pulled his face away. “Marcus, stay. I won't regret it, I promise.”

“
Yes, you will,” he said savagely. “I might have enough honor left in me not to ruin you, but I cannot guarantee I'll be gentleman enough to keep my eyes shut and my hands to myself if your robe gapes open again.”

“
Again?” she gasped, trying to pull her hands from his.

“
Again,” he confirmed in a broken whisper. His strong fingers held her hands in place, and his lips brushed hers once more.

She shivered. If he had been any other man, she'd have been appalled, but not Marcus. Never Marcus. “You don't scare me,” she said softly.

“
I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to warn you.”

Emma curled her fingers until her fingertips rested against his knuckles. “Warning heeded. Now promise me you'll stay.”

Marcus shut his eyes and exhaled. “Do you promise to keep your clothes on?”

“
Yes,” she snapped. “Do you?”

He scowled. “That will not be a problem.”

“
Right, because you're shy,” she teased.

“
Forget it.” He released her fingers and pulled away.

Emma wrapped her arms around Marcus’ neck and didn't let go, keeping him as close to her as she could. “Stop, I was only teasing. I promise I'll keep my clothes on at all times. Now, will you stay?”

“
You’d better, because heaven help you if you don't.” He ducked his head and pulled it out of her embrace.

“
Does that mean you're staying?”

“
Yes, I'm staying. Now close the top of that robe and retie the sash.”

Emma looked down and nearly shrieked when she saw both of her breasts were completely exposed. “How long—” She broke off, clenching the fabric tightly.

“
A while,” he answered her raggedly.

She nodded curtly and stood up, turning her back to him so she could adjust the robe and retie the sash. “I think that should hold,” she said brightly as she turned to face him again.

“
It had better, because next time I'll not be a gentleman and pretend not to notice.”