Page 25 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“Why else would the woman be in my room, in the middle of the night, wearing a garment designed to stir a man’s desire versus one to keep her warm in a cold, drafty building like the abbey? I might be blind, but I’m not a half-wit.”

The minute Valeran growled his reply, his body tightened with renewed lust as he recalled how easily Amalie’s silky wisp of a nightgown had slid off her shoulders. The memory of caressing and suckling her full, lush breasts made his mouth go dry.

Christ Jesus, even now, when his rage had him ready to choke the life out of her for having trapped him neater than a hound could a fox, he lusted after her. The mere thought of exploring every inch of her with first his fingers and then his mouth had his cock hardening. Well, he’d have that chance soon enough.

Chapter 8

I’m telling you, Val, Amalie does not have it in her to arrange her ruin.”

“Then you’re a fool for being blinder than I am.” His voice hard as ice, Valeran’s need to throttle Amalie Rockwood expanded to include Jamie for being such an idiot. “Although, what your cousin hopes to gain by marrying a man she hates is beyond my comprehension.”

“What the devil makes you—”

“Just before she collapsed on the cnoc beag today, the woman told me how much she despises me.” The memory of Amalie viciously listing all the faults she claimed he possessed made Valeran frown darkly with renewed anger.

“I don’t believe it,“ Jamie exclaimed in disbelief, but Valeran heard the confusion in the other man’s voice.

“What don’t you believe? That your cousin finds me contemptible, or that she arranged this whole fucking mess? And I can assure you, the woman loathes me.”

Amalie’s mockery little more than an hour ago only clarified the true depth of her abhorrence for him. Amused, yet pleased, at the way she was studying his naked body, he’d enjoyed teasing her. Seconds later, Amalie had quickly illustrated just how much she despised him. When she’d declared she needed to look at his teeth, Valeran knew his expression had been one of bewilderment.

Baffled, his confusion had only deepened as she’d detailed the necessity of examining the various attributes of his body. Not until Amalie’s acerbic tongue had emphasized how important it was to measure him had Valeran realized, she was comparing him to a stallion she might put out to stud. Stunned speechless by her razor-edged words, it had taken him several seconds for his brain to process her knifelike insults.

Clearly enjoying his confusion, Amalie’s amusement had only added fuel to the fiery rage she’d ignited in him. Valeran gritted his teeth as he remembered her amused contempt. For a second time in one day, Amalie Rockwood had pricked his pride. He didn’t know how, but the woman seemed to know exactly what verbal blow would inflict the most damage.

It took something deeply personal to make Valeran angry, but her sharp tongue had unleashed a raw, primitive emotion inside him. No one had ever angered him to the point of losing control of his senses the way Amalie’s words had unraveled him. Valeran had only meant to punish her, and that had been a disaster. The punishment had quickly turned into something far more potent.

Never in his life had he ever been unable to maintain complete command of himself where a woman was concerned. Yet, with Amalie, he’d been consumed with the stark need to explore every inch of her soft, lush curves. Jaw tight with repressed fury, Valeran folded his arms across his chest to dig his fingers deep into his hard muscles.

He’d allowed anger to push him over a cliff and throw him into a marriage with a woman who despised him. He had wanted a friend and confidante in a wife. Amalie Rockwood had made it clear she’d never be that.

By God, if the woman were standing beside him right now, his hands would be wrapped around her neck, choking the life out of her. Valeran almost snorted with self-disgust. He was a goddamn liar. If Amalie were here right now, she’d be in his bed.

Valeran had only meant to silence Amalie with a kiss. A tantalizing caress that would leave her whimpering with need before he released her and mocked her in return. But when he’d pulled her silky, plump curves against his body, all thought of punishment had flown from his head, along with his fury.

Not a single ember of his fiery rage had been left burning the instant her sweetly tart mouth had softened beneath his. Replacing the violent emotion had been a desire so powerful his brain had actually shut down. When had kissing a woman ever made that happen before?

Never.

And God help him, he’d wanted a hell of a lot more from Amalie than just a kiss. He’d wanted her beneath him. He’d wanted to explore every inch of her with his mouth and hands. He’d wanted to hear her plead with him for satisfaction in that lilting voice of hers. A siren’s voice so lovely it could lead a man to the depths of hell and make him enjoy the journey.

Amalie had wanted him, too. The way she’d responded to him had been a heady sensation. The insatiable need for her barreling through him had only intensified when she’d whimpered and moaned at his touch. Never had a woman’s whispered pleas for fulfillment ever pushed him into waters so deep he’d almost missed Crianlarich’s demand to open his door.

Valeran had made mistakes before, but never one with such colossal ramifications. Kissing Amalie hadn’t just been a mistake, it had sent him tumbling into a muddled state of disorientation and confusion. A condition that had left him ill-equipped to handle the inquisition that had followed the discovery of Amalie in his rooms.

But not even the Rockwoods' hostile interrogation had weakened his craving for his future bride. Even as furious as he was with her for staging this debacle, it didn’t make his blood run any less hot. Jamie’s voice drew him back into the conversation about Amalie’s responsibility for tonight’s debacle.

“Damn it, Val, Amalie doesn’t have a single drop of Machiavellian tendencies in her blood. She’s far too blunt, and she finds it exceedingly difficult to hold her tongue.” Jamie’s voice resounded with outrage as he defended his cousin.

“No? Then explain how she came to be in my rooms? I sure as hell didn’t open the door and invite her in. She entered my chamber of her own volition.”

“I can’t explain it, but what I do know, what I believe emphatically, is that marrying you or any man is Amalie’s worst nightmare. It’s the last thing she wants,” Jamie said with a note of bewilderment in his voice that didn’t detract from his forceful argument on his cousin’s behalf. “She’s made it quite clear she has no intention of ever marrying. Something she won’t be able to avoid now.”

“Clearly.” The irony in Valeran’s voice pulled a harsh sound of angry confusion out of Jamie.

“Look, I know this is a difficult situation, but I’m certain Amalie had nothing to do with her being compromised. I’d stake my life on it.”

Jamie’s conviction as to his cousin’s innocence made Valeran frown with uncertainty. Was he wrong? Was it possible someone else had been responsible for Amalie being in his bed chamber? A voice in the back of his head reminded him of her flustered protest that she’d entered his rooms by mistake. Valeran should have let her go then and there, but he hadn’t.