Love her?
Her face was ashen, and her lips trembled. He wanted so badly to lower his mouth and cover them, heal her pain—make her see him differently. He couldn’t help himself. With a tortured groan, he covered her mouth, but his kiss was painfully tender, belying his anger.
Elizabeth moaned in protest, but yielded to him, sobbing as his tongue stabbed into the warmth of her mouth, tasting and relishing.
His arousal had never diminished. Even in his anger, he was hard as a brick, and growing more so by the second. He was losing his reason.
Elizabeth shoved him away abruptly, her eyes spearing him, and he released her, though his arms still caged her beneath him. “Understand now?” he asked hoarsely, his voice harsh but unsteady.
Elizabeth shook her head. “N-N-No,” she sobbed.
Cutter pinned her hands at her sides, and with a muttered curse over his failure, he shook his head at her, fury spilling from his black eyes. “Think about it, Liz. That’s exactly what you’d be inviting if you hired on some stranger—chances are slim to none that you’ll find someone to play the part who won’t expect all that goes along with it! And if you turn him down, he’ll just take it! Is it sinking in yet?” A bleakness settled into her eyes, mirroring her emotions, and he said with no small measure of relief, “I see that it is.”
Her tears kept flowing, and guilt twisted Cutter’s gut like a dull blade. “To make it look genuine,” he tried to explain, his voice losing some of its harshness, “you’re gonna have to share a room—ain’t a man on this earth who wouldn’t be tempted to take what’s so easily accessible. And what would you do then? Scream? And lose your niece? Reckon that would be rather pointless—even more asinine than taking a chance on a useless half-breed! Y’ think?”
With a whimper, Elizabeth turned away, hating that he would use her conscience against her, hating the truth of his words, and feeling a loss as though she’d already been stripped of everything that was dear to her.
Cutter gripped her by the chin, forcing her to acknowledge him. “Chrissakes, Lizbeth! You’d think I’d taken every chance I could to rape and batter you!” His voice was soft and entreating when he spoke again, and his eyes compelled her to understand. “Think about it—haven’t I gone out of my way to prove to you that you can trust me? Damn you... have a little faith!” He paused, waiting for her to answer. “I can do it,” he hissed, his voice strained and his breathing difficult.
Swallowing abruptly, Elizabeth turned from him again, unable to meet his gaze. The fact that his words rang true didn’t ease her heartache any. She squeezed her eyelids tightly closed, cutting off the flow of her tears, nodding hopelessly.
For certain now, she would lose Katie. It was too much to hope for that Elias Bass would overlook the fact that her husband was a half-breed. Why, oh, why, had she ever, ever, dared to hope? Why? She nearly cried out the question, but couldn’t speak for the trembling of her lips.
Why did Cutter have to be right?
She turned to meet his eyes, her voice weak with defeat. “All right,” she said with a despairing softness, “we’ll do it your way, Mr. McKenzie.”
Cutter shuddered with the release of tension.
Seeing the gesture, Elizabeth despised him for it. A sob escaped her tightening throat, and anger surged through her, but she didn’t move at all. She was too numb to attempt it. “Only know this,” she added brokenly, a single tear escaping and rolling down her ashen cheek. “If I lose my niece because of you, Cutter McKenzie, I swear to heaven above that I will despise you until my dying day! I swear it!” she cried out with more emotion, swallowing the salt of her tears.
“And what if you’re wrong, Elizabeth? What if Elias does accept me? Why! Why are you so sure he won’t?”
His question jolted her momentarily. Why did she think Elias would persecute Cutter? Because she did? Could it be true? Did she? She shook her head in denial... yet somewhere deep down, she knew that it was so.
And then hope surged within her.
Maybe Elias wouldn’t hold it against him.
Maybe Elias wouldn’t even know.
Wouldn’t care.
And maybe he would. And it was that possibility that made her heart wrench.
Cutter must have read her thoughts, because something in his expression darkened abruptly. His jaw grew taut, and his countenance twisted with a look of pain that turned quickly to fury. “Reckon you’re the one with the problem, Elizabeth, and not Elias?”
His jaw clenched. “God—damn you, you’re no better’n—” He turned his face away.
“No!” Elizabeth shouted. It couldn’t be true. His gaze snapped back to hers, and her voice broke. “K-Katie is all I have left in this world... If... if you take her away...” Tears began to course down her cheeks unchecked. She sensed Cutter stiffen above her, but she couldn’t hold back the impassioned words. “If I lose the chance to raise her because of you... I’ll never, ever, forgive you for it!”
With a furious oath, Cutter jerked away from her, as though stung by her words. He hauled himself onto the bank. Still cursing, he tugged his denims up over his wet legs, not bothering with his drawers, and snatching up his boots, he limped back to camp, not able to face the anger, or the hurt, in her eyes.
Nor that within his soul.
At the moment, he detested himself for the way he’d left her. And her, for the lack of faith she had in him. Above all, he was afraid she was right—that he would cost her the child. And that she’d follow through with her promise.
That she’d hate him until her dying day.
