Her Reluctant Groom (20 page)

Wordlessly, she rubbed him until his muscles were relaxed and loose. “Do you like your head scratched?” Her fingers sank into the back of his hair, and she used her nails to lightly scratch his scalp.

Who
didn't
like their head scratched? He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to give her better access. He heard her smile. “There's nothing you can do that I wouldn't enjoy.”

“
Hmm, I’ll have to make a note of that,” she whispered, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. Her lips stayed against his skin for a few seconds before she moved them ever-so-slightly to the right and kissed him again.

Marcus reached up behind him and grabbed hold of Emma's hands. He used his thumbs to trace the ridges of her knuckles. “Come around,” he said gently, lightly tugging on her wrist. After she stepped out from behind his chair, he pushed it back to allow enough room between his legs and the edge of his desk for her to sit on his lap.

Emma looked uncertain when he tried to pull her into his lap.

“
I'm not going to hurt you, I promise,” he said quietly, pulling her down to his lap.

She nodded once and took a seat, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and pull her against his chest. She smiled at him before bending forward and pressing a quick kiss on his lips.

“
You're beautiful.” He reached up to pull the pins from her thick hair. While his fingers worked to loosen her hair, he bent his head forward and pressed his lips against hers. He slightly parted his lips and ran his tongue along the seam of hers.

She sighed against his mouth and parted her lips in response. His tongue pushed past her lips and brushed over the sweet inside of her mouth.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as his tongue tangled with hers. Marcus moved his hand from where it was splayed across her back and slowly moved it around to cup the underside of her thinly covered left breast.

Her body jerked at his touch and she moved back slightly.

“
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push the boundaries.”

“
You didn't.” She averted her gaze.

Understanding dawned as he realized he'd just touched her where she'd been hurt. “I'm sorry,” he repeated. “I forgot about...” He looked into her eyes and knew she understood what he was saying.

“
It's nothing. I was merely caught off guard.”

“
Don't lie to me, Emma.” He moved his fingers to the buttons on the back of her gown. “I know you're hurt. I didn't think it would still be tender, though.”

“
It's not. As I said, I was merely surprised.”

His fingers stilled and he looked at her. “What happened?”

“
What do you think happened?”

“
Hampton.”

She nodded. “But it's not as bad as you're thinking,” she rushed to add.

“
Not as bad as I'm thinking?” The man had touched her when he had no right. That alone made it bad enough.

“
I mean—” she took a deep breath and clenched her hands— “I'm still a virgin,” she whispered at last.

His eyes went wide. He hadn't even thought of the possibility that she wasn't. But the reality of her whispered words came crashing down on him.  Emma had always been a strong girl. Always. When they were children, he'd seen her demonstrate the strength of her will many times. He'd just assumed she was still just as stubborn and strong. That was a stupid assumption for him to have made. Hampton was bigger and stronger than she was. He could have easily overpowered her and forced her to submit to him. Marcus squeezed her tight, hating Hampton all the more for what he'd done.

“
Marcus, you're hurting me,” she whispered. “I promise, nothing happened. I'm perfectly all right. It was the best thing that could have happened.”

“
That degenerate putting his hands on your breasts was the best thing that could have happened?” His voice could only be classified as a harsh bark.

“
Yes and no.” She trailed her fingers along the row of buttons that went down his shirt. “As much as I didn't like him touching me, it did provide an escape.”

“
That's why you went to live with Caroline,” he reasoned, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

She nodded once.

“
Louise didn't like it, I take it?” He bit the inside of his cheek so as not to grin at the mental image of Louise's world crashing around her ears when she realized her husband's affections no longer were directed at her.

Emma's fingers slipped his top button through the buttonhole. “She didn't care. He's been unfaithful to her for years.”

“
Then you left on your own,” he stated, perplexed. He'd always suspected Emma's living conditions at Louise's were unfit. It just wasn't his place to say anything. He wasn't in a position to offer her help. Until a year ago when Caroline married, there had not been anyone else to whom Emma could turn. That left her with no choice but to stay with Louise and Hampton. He also knew now that Caroline had married, Emma would be reluctant to ask her for help, even if Caroline would do anything in her power to assist Emma. Sometimes it was easier to live with an unpleasant situation than to ask for help. He could understand that. Thankfully, she'd finally reached a breaking point and had gone to Caroline. How unfortunate that had come at the price of being mauled by Hampton.

“
Actually, no,” she said after a minute.

He took hold of her fingers that were undoing the buttons on his shirt and brought them to his lips. Kissing the tips, he asked, “Then whose idea was it?”

“
His.” She grinned at him so brightly he forgot if he'd just kissed that fingertip already or not, so he did it again.

“
Excuse me? Do you mean to say that after you refused to do what he wanted, he tossed you out?” Not that he was complaining she'd gotten away, but he couldn't help wondering where in the blazes was Louise when all this was happening.

She coughed. “Well, yes, in a manner of speaking that's what happened.”

“
How so?”

“
Does it matter?” A pale blush crept up her cheeks.

He nodded.

Her checks turned redder before she blurted, “I kneed him there.” She pointed to Marcus’ waist then quickly turned her head.

A bark of laughter broke the air. “Good girl.” He squeezed her again. If it had been any other man and for any other reason, he'd have winced and advised her against doing such a thing in the future.

She turned her head back to face him. “You're not scared of me?” A teasing grin was on her lips.

He glanced down where her right knee was nestled right up against his unmentionables. “Not at all. I have no reason to be. I'll never hurt you, nor do I have any intention of forcing myself on you.”

She licked her lips. “You wouldn't have to.”

Marcus looked into her eyes and saw the truth of her words. His heart clenched. She wasn't his, and she never could be. The pain of that harsh reality hit him like a blow to the heart. He forced a smile in her direction. “Emma, you should probably go up to bed.”

She blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“
It's getting late. You should go to bed.” He forced himself to say it as evenly as he could.

“
Oh.” A crimson blush stained her cheeks. “All right, I'll go.” She gracelessly got off his lap and walked to the door. Was it his imagination or was the sway in her hips more pronounced? She got to the door and stopped. She rested her right hand on the doorjamb and turned her face back to look at him. “Goodnight, Marcus,” she said, winking at him.

He shook his head at her odd behavior. Then he enjoyed the view of her backside as she continued to sway her hips while leaving the room.

Once she was down the hall and out of sight, he folded his hands and leaned his head back. For a moment he stared blankly at the ceiling before closing his eyes and thinking what he should do about Emma. He loved her, and for some bizarre reason, she loved him, too. Sadly, that only made things harder.

He clenched his teeth and scrubbed his face with his hands before raking his fingers through his hair. With a huff, he put his hands back on his knees and waited for a solution to present itself.

As the clock struck midnight, the perfect, blatantly obvious solution crept into his head. Satisfied, he shoved to his feet and numbly walked down the hall to his room.

He opened the door and stood frozen in the doorway when his eyes fell on the sight of Emma lying in his bed.

Chapter 14

“
What are you doing in here?”

Emma jumped at least a foot in the air at Marcus’ shout. Trying to regain her composure, she sat up and clenched her fists together under the counterpane. “Nothing.” She swallowed hard, pretending she hadn't just stammered.

“
This isn't nothing,” Marcus pointed out, crossing his arms.

Clearly she wasn't doing
nothing
. She'd been sleeping. However, Marcus’ rigid face and disapproving tone suggested she had better have a better reason for being here other than she was passing by and decided she needed a little nap before heading upstairs to her room.

“
Why did you come here?” he asked more softly, taking a seat in the chair close to the door.

She swallowed convulsively. “You told me to go to bed.”

“
I didn't mean
my
bed.”

“
But we were...” she shrugged. “Then you said…” Unease settled over her. Not only had she misunderstood his words, but it would seem that Lady Bird's book had been incorrect on the part about a man being unable to resist a scantily clad woman in his bed. Not that she'd been planning to try out that suggestion so soon, but when he'd told her to go to bed...

His unblinking eyes stared at her, making her squirm.

Raising her chin a notch, she slipped out of bed. “I can see that I was clearly wrong.”

“
Emma,” Marcus whispered. He reached out for her hand to stop her before she could leave. “I didn't mean to make you think I intended for you to shame yourself.”

She winced at his words. Her parents had always stressed the importance of the wedding before the bedding, but she'd known Marcus nearly her whole life and knew he'd not take her virtue then desert her. That was the only reason she'd not been offended or appalled when he'd told her to go to bed. Though he'd not made a formal proposal to her, she knew he intended to marry her. He loved her. It was that simple. The way she'd reasoned it as she left his study was that his word was as solid as stone. If he'd said he loved her, he did. Since he loved her, he'd marry her. Therefore, she'd been willing to go against everything she'd ever been taught about virtuous young ladies and join Marcus in bed this once before their wedding. And now he'd forever think she was a woman with loose morals.

She pulled her wrist from his hand and angled her blushing face away from him. “I merely misunderstood.”

“
I do want you that way,” Marcus admitted after she'd crossed the threshold. “I desire you more than you'll ever know, but I—”

“
Want me to be a virgin on my wedding night,” she finished for him, blinking back the tears of mortification that stung her eyes.

“
Exactly. You deserve that, Emma.”

“
Yes, I do,” she agreed stiffly, then walked down the hall to the staircase.

Marcus hollered for her to stop, but she didn't; she sped up. She was too mortified by his rejection to stop and listen to whatever it was he was hastily spouting behind her. Of course all proper young ladies were virgins until taken to the bridal bed by their husbands, and as much as she'd always planned to be one of those proper young ladies, Marcus’ rejection of her just now hurt far more than any censure she might have endured had she been known as a fallen woman.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder and glimpsed Marcus down at the bottom, struggling to climb the stairs. She pushed away the pang of guilt she felt for running away from him and darted into her room, sliding the lock as soon as she was safely inside.

Uneasily, she walked to the vanity and picked up the silver hairbrush Marcus had given her on her first night here. She brushed her hair and hummed loudly, drowning out the muffled words Marcus was saying when his fist wasn't pounding on the door.

Ten minutes and a hundred strokes later, Emma laid the brush down, blew out the candle, crawled into bed, and pulled the covers high above her head. She instantly felt like a fool. What was she doing? Why was she hiding from him?

With a sigh, she threw back the covers and forced herself to walk to the door. Now that she'd not only presented herself to him like a prostitute, but had also acted childishly, she needed to put her insecurities behind her and face him.

Hand shaking, she unlocked the door and flung it open, causing Marcus to literally fall into her room. “What were you doing?” she asked, narrowing her eyes on him.

“
Picking the lock,” he explained, grabbing the penknife that had stuck into the wooden floor when he'd fallen inside.

She shook her head. Good thing she'd not been directly in front of the door when she'd opened it. “Were you leaning on it?”