Her arms flew around his neck, and she molded herself to his powerful body, moaning with desire when his hand slid from her breast to her bare bottom. His kiss deepened as he cupped her with both hands and lifted her against the hard swelling beneath his breeches, then he abruptly tore his mouth away from hers.
“You want me, Maddie. I know you do. If you can believe in this,” he breathed huskily, his hips straining forward emphatically, “in how much I want you, how much I need you, then why won’t you believe I’m not a spy?
His words pierced her passionate daze, and she froze in his arms, breathless and flushed. She was astounded her body had betrayed her so easily. Rage surged within her. Her voice rose shrilly as she tried to break free of his embrace.
“Ye’re a spy, Garrett Marshall, and there’s nothing ye can say or do that will ever change my mind! If ye think yer lust will sway me, ye’ll do well to think again!”
She felt a flicker of fear at his thunderous look and almost regretted what she had said. God’s wounds, she had never seen him so angry!
Her heart lurched in her chest when he suddenly swept her into his arms.
“No, Garrett! No! Dinna do this!” she cried, kicking and fighting him as he carried her into the bedchamber. With a heave, he tossed her onto the bed amid all the things he had bought her. She frantically pulled her robe around her exposed body and scrambled to a far corner, her eyes wide and frightened.
“Don’t worry, Madeleine, I’m not going to force you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, his deep voice laden with bitterness. “I’ve never forced a woman before and I’m surely not going to begin with my wife.” He turned and strode from the bedchamber. “We’ll be leaving early in the morning. Get some rest.” Then he was gone, the, sitting room door slamming shut behind him.
Madeleine was so shaken that long moments passed before she ventured to draw back the covers and settle herself beneath them. She barely noticed the clothing and slippers tumbling off the bed and hitting the floor.
She brought the warm covers up to her chin, the four-poster bed seeming very large around her. She closed her eyes and placed her hand between her breasts. Her heart was still beating wildly, and her skin was ablaze from the heat of Garrett’s touch.
She stared at the canopy overhead, feeling strangely alone. It was her last thought before she fell asleep.
***
Garrett shut the door to his bedchamber, his hand resting on the latch as he stood silently in the darkness. There were no candles lit in this room, no welcome fire blazing brightly in the hearth. It suited his black mood perfectly.
What the devil had come over him? He had only gone to Madeleine’s room to see if she was well, not to force himself on her. But something had snapped inside him when she accused him of being a spy and a liar. After everything he had done for her, the hell he had gone through thinking he might be too late to save her, she wanted nothing to do with him. Even her desire was not enough to sway her!
Garrett drew a ragged breath. Fool! He should have known she would spurn any overtures he might make. He had seen the nervous defiance written plainly in those stunning blue eyes when he had first entered her room.
He had almost turned around at that moment and left, but something had stopped him. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen hatred reflected there, giving him a glimmer of hope. He had decided merely to share supper with her, feigning an appetite when he had none, at least not for food.
He was grateful his charade had encouraged her to eat. He still hadn’t gotten over his shock of seeing her emerge from prison so pale and thin. Yet despite her pinched appearance, her beauty had shone through with a haunting quality that had taken his breath away.
Garrett sighed heavily, his hand falling away from the latch. He turned and groped his way in the dark to the mantel, where he found a tinderbox and a piece of flint.
He lit a single candle, flooding the room with a soft glow. It reminded him of the night he had spent with Madeleine, the solitary candle burning brightly as he held her in his arms after the passion they had shared, spinning his dreams—
“Don’t torture yourself, man,” he muttered under his breath, kicking off his boots. Madeleine was his wife now, that much of his dream had been realized, but it would clearly be a long time before she was convinced that he loved her more than life itself.
How desperately he had wanted to tell her that he loved her today, in front of Hawley, during the carriage ride, just now in her rooms. Each time the words had died in his throat.
Garrett laughed grimly. It was simple. He was terrified that she would throw his words back in his face, just as she had done when he insisted he wasn’t a spy.
Madeleine wasn’t ready to hear the truth now, and probably wouldn’t want to hear it tomorrow. She was entirely convinced he had obtained her estate and the pardon by becoming a spy for King George. The irony of it was almost more than he could bear. If he had had even an inkling that this might happen, he would have told Gordon to forget about including the title to Mhor Manor in the bargain to free Madeleine!
Garrett stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, his mouth drawn into a tight line.
Dammit all, what had he expected anyway? That she’d marry him and they’d live happily ever after, that tonight he’d be making love to the woman who inflamed him more than any other, the mere sight of whom set his blood on fire? He was in agony from their brief encounter, his loins aching with frustrated desire!
He gritted his teeth, forcing his mind from his discomfort.
He hadn’t expected Madeleine to turn down the pardon outright, saying she couldn’t marry him because of her people. Especially after what he had learned by speaking with her kinsmen. Madeleine knew he hadn’t betrayed her the night Hawley torched Farraline. Angus Ramsay had told him as much, and had even thanked him for trying to sway Hawley from his cruel purpose.
Seized by frustration, Garrett banged his fist into the headboard. If he could have half the love Madeleine reserved for her people, he would be a happy man. He would settle for a third, even a quarter!
He rolled over and brought himself up on his elbow, mulling over his last thought.
“Maybe that’s it,” Garrett said aloud. Maybe the way to Madeleine’s heart was through her people.
