She turned away; despite her vows to not shed another tear for the scoundrel, she felt the prickle of heat in her eyes. “Please, do not ask me to talk about it. Suffice it to say the betrothal is over. If I ever loved him, I do not any longer.”
Whatever else Cate might have said was cut off as the door burst open and the last man she wanted to see strode into the room. “What the hell do you mean, ‘if’ you ever loved me?”
Cate startled, her eyes widening. Not from the shock of seeing him—she knew she would not be able to put off this conversation forever—but from how he looked. Unkempt was putting it nicely. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair rumpled, his jaw unshaven and dark with the shadow of a week’s stubble, and there were deep lines gouged in his not-so-stunningly-handsome face. The most gorgeous man in Scotland looked like hell. More specifically, like a man who was one step away from entering it.
The king jumped to his feet and turned on him angrily. “I told you to wait outside.”
But Gregor was looking at her. Their eyes locked for an instant. She could see the almost visceral relief, the longing that seemed to pour out of him as he gorged on every facet of her face and figure. But when she turned harshly away, she felt the heat of his frustration and ire.
“I’m done waiting. She’s refused to see me for days. Cate—Catherine,” she heard the sarcasm, “and I need to talk.”
Her father’s fury matched Gregor’s. “You will talk when andifshe wants and not before. Need I remind you that you are only here by Helen’s request, and if I had my choice you’d be in the south with the others.”
Gregor’s mouth clamped until his lips were white.
She looked back and forth between the two men, seeing the tension between them where before there must have been mutual respect and admiration.
No matter how strongly she wanted to send Gregor from the room and tell him to go to the devil, she would not. There might be nothing to salvage between them, but she would do what she could to mend the break between the king and his once favored Guardsman. She knew how much her father’s approval meant to Gregor, and no matter what he’d done to her, she would not take that from him. Her father would never hear from her how Gregor had betrayed her. Gregor might not be the kind of man a king might wish his daughter to wed, but he needed him in his army.
She put her hand on her father’s arm. “It’s all right. I will speak to him.”
Her father looked back and forth between them, a hard expression on his face. How much he knew about what had happened between them, she didn’t know. But from that look, she gathered that he suspected most of it.
His gaze met hers with concern. “You don’t have to do this now if you are not up to it. I will not see you overtired.” The last he directed to Gregor.
“I will be fine,” she assured him. Then, turning stonily to the man who’d broke1n her heart, she added, “This will not take long.”
Gregor felt like he was holding on by a thread. Since the moment that arrow had left his bow, he’d experienced every kind of unimaginable torture. My God, he’d almost killed her! Just knowing how close he’d come to killing the woman he loved was enough to send him into a fit of frantic desperation and panic.
He’d been so despondent, so close to losing his mind to grief in those dark hours of her fever, that Helen had drugged him to force him to sleep. Drugged him, damn it. With her husband’s help.
He’d spent days in the chapel praying, and his prayers had been answered when Helen found him and told him the fever had broken. He’d waited for Cate to ask for him and had been stunned—and then angered—when told that she refused to see him.
How could she refuse to see him when she’d lied to him about her identity? He still couldn’t believe his wee “ward” was Bruce’s natural daughter. The king was furious with him, blaming Gregor for the years he thought her dead, even though they both knew it wasn’t Gregor’s fault. But Gregor was guilty of something. He’d taken the king’s daughter’s innocence, and he wasn’t looking forward to confirming what Bruce no doubt already suspected.
Damn it, why hadn’t she told him? Cate had a lot of explaining to do. But if there was one thing of which he was damned certain, it was that they were going to be married.
He kept a tight rein on the emotions whipping around inside him as the king took his sweet time in exiting the chamber—and not before sending a glare of warning in Gregor’s direction. A glare that Gregor was too damned furious to heed.
Helen had taken pity on him and allowed him a few glimpses of Cate when the king wasn’t looking, but this was the first time they’d been in a room together alone for weeks. She looked so lovely—and so wonderfully alive—that for a moment he didn’t know whether to fall on his knees in gratitude or take her in his arms and shake her until she swore to never scare him like that again.
He’d been terrified that he would lose her. Hell, he was still terrified. That was part of what made him so angry. She seemed to have no sense of the torment going on inside him. She looked almost bored.Bored, when he was hanging by his last damned thread.
Her eyes when they looked up at him were perfectly blank. “Is there something you wished to say?”
Her very nonchalance pushed him over the edge. He stormed over to the bed, looking down on her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but conscious of her injury, he kept his hands at his sides. “Damn right I have something to say. I think there are a few things we need to clear up,Catherine.”
She flushed, apparently not completely unashamed of her lie. “Such as?”
He leaned down so their eyes were level. The scent of lavender that filled his nose was so heart-stoppingly familiar, he almost lost the battle not to take her into his arms. But the cold indifference of her gaze stopped him. “Such as what name you want on the marriage contract. Because despite what you have just told your father, we will be married, whether you like it or not.” He dragged his gaze down her body. “Need I remind you why.”
He sounded like an arse, and he knew it. But she was provoking him bynotprovoking him. By sitting there as if she didn’t care. As if she didn’t want to be in his arms as badly as he wanted her there.
All she did was quirk a brow. Quirk… a… damned… brow!
“As you of all people should know, that is not necessarily a precursor to marriage.”
God’s blood, the woman knew how to infuriate him. “Damn it, Cate, will you not even apologize for not telling me the truth about your father?”
