Page 34 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

Slowly raising his head, Valeran studied Amalie’s muted gray shadow. She was still trembling, but there was an air of defeat about her that troubled him. Amalie had an independent streak, and he didn’t want to crush that or her spirit. Instinctively, he knew it was one of the qualities that made her so unique.

“Very well, since you are clearly unwilling to give me the heir any man would expect from a wife, I’ll inform the Crianlarich that you refused my offer.”

“What?”

Despite his ability to only see her face in varied hues of black and gray, he could tell she was staring at him slack jawed with horror. Her reaction made him pause for a second before he shored his resolve up with the reminder it was unlikely he’d be able to convince her to marry him in the future.

“I’ve offered you my name, Amalie, and I expect something in return. That something is an heir, which means you will share my bed.” Valeran kept his voice quiet, but firm. “It’s not an unreasonable request, and if you cannot bring yourself to agree, then there is no point in us moving forward.”

Valeran schooled his features into an inflexible expression. His ultimatum hung in the air as Amalie’s trembling renewed its strength. His gut twisting with self-disgust, he immediately realized his mistake. He’d just made his task of convincing Amalie to think better of him all the more difficult.

Insisting Amalie share his bed had done nothing but back her into a corner. Usually, he was much better at gauging a woman’s reaction to whatever he said. But for whatever reason, Amalie was the exception to that fact, and Valeran found it frustrating. Disgusted by his behavior, Valeran bit down on the inside of his cheek knowing he needed to correct his mistake. Clearing his throat, Valeran clasped his hands behind his back.

“Amalie, if—”

“I agree to your terms.”

Her voice was completely devoid of emotion as she unknowingly stopped him from retracting his demand. Uncertainty tightened his muscles for the first time in years. She’d acquiesced, but at what price? He didn’t want her to hate him. The irony of the thought forced an inaudible snort out of Valeran. The woman already did.

“Then I shall inform your parents that they may post the banns, and we’ll be married in three weeks.”

Amalie didn’t speak, and he realized he didn’t want to leave her like this. He knew she was feeling trapped. It was a sensation he’d been experiencing as well until he’d realized how suitable Amalie was to be his wife. He wanted her to know their marriage would not be the hell she obviously expected it to be. Valeran cleared his throat.

“Might it be possible for us to call a truce?” His question made her jump, but she recovered in less than a second.

“Are we at war?” There wasn’t a single note of her delectable Scottish-flavored voice in the precise, aristocratic reply.

“I’m beginning to think we are.” Valeran said with a heavy sigh.

“If you are asking that we be cordial with each other, then I will not object.” Her taciturn response had all the warmth of an icy pond.

“It was a request, Amalie, not a demand.”

“Well, if ye are looking for me tae swoon whenever ye enter the room, ye will be disappointed,” she snapped. Valeran wanted to smile with pleasure the instant her sultry lilt emerged from behind the refined, cool English accent she’d been using.

“Swoon?” he murmured. Amusement tugged at one corner of his mouth before he chuckled. “I find it difficult to believe any man would cause you to faint.”

“For a mon who just asked for a truce, mocking me does nae convince me ye want one.”

“Then allow me to start over. What I’m asking is that we make the best of the situation we’re in. I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Why?”

The harsh, one word question indicated friendship was the last thing she wanted from him. Valeran stepped forward, but the instant her shadowy figure stiffened like a skittish foal on the verge of fleeing, he came to a halt.

“Because I don’t want my wife to be my enemy. I would like our marriage to be one of mutual respect and friendship.”

“Friendship requires trust, and I dinnae trust ye, my lord.”

“You’re right. It does require trust, so tell me what I can do that will convince you how sincere I am in my wish that we be friends, perhaps even partners?”

His question was met with silence for a long moment, and Valeran tilted his head slightly to listen to her breathing. It was accelerated. What was the woman plotting?

“If ye want me tae trust ye, then you’ll agree nae tae seduce me into sharing your bed.”

The concession she’d just demanded of him made Valeran stiffened. Fuck. The woman was damned clever. She’d neatly cut him off at the knees with his belief he could earn her friendship while coaxing her into his bed. If he agreed, he wouldn’t have her beneath him any time soon. Worse, Valeran knew if he refused to accept her condition, he was proving she couldn’t trust him. Immediately, he had to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. She had said nothing about her seducing him. That he could make happen if she conceded to one more demand.

“Very well, I’ll allow you to decide when to enter my bed, but with the stipulation that beginning on our wedding day, you agree I may kiss you twice a day, whenever, wherever, and however I please.”