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Authors: Marie Higgins
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his weary body.
All air escaped her lungs – or had she forgotten to breathe? Catherine stared blankly at him, not certain if she’d heard him wrong. Had he really called her mother’s name, Sophia? Why would he mistake her for her mother, unless...
Catherine gasped, covered her mouth and rushed out of the room. Slowly her mind pieced everything together and things began to make sense. He must want her because she looked so much like her mother. She’d resembled her mother at age fourteen, and that was when Grant offered for her. Since he couldn’t have Sophia, he was going to have her.
What am I going to do now? Was it too late to call everything off? Unfortunately, she doubted she could accomplish such a task even if she wanted.
She took slow steps down the long staircase, her mind spinning in a million different directions, keeping her from thinking straight. Really, there was nothing she could do. She was stuck in this relationship.
Catherine rubbed her forehead as a slight pound began. Why was life so complicated? Why did her parents have to promise her to a man who looked at her as if she were somebody else? How could she become married to a man when he’d think of her mother the whole time? This wasn’t fair!
“Blast it all,” she cursed fate aloud in vile anger, hitting her fist into the railing on the stairs.
* * * *
Nick walked through the hallway, heading toward the staircase when the sweet voice of a woman cursing floated through the air. He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Obviously the woman thought she was the only one in the house. After he turned the corner and noticed the person in question was Catherine, he did laugh – and hard.
She jumped from his sudden outburst and stopped on the stairs. Her face flamed at least three shades of red, which made his laughter grow.
“The perfect Catherine has a flaw after all.” Nick leaned his hip against the banister and stared up at her. She looked extremely lovely right now; so pure and sweet, but mostly intoxicating even with a scarlet-colored face.
“I’m not perfect,” she snapped and straightened her back as she continued to descend.
He chuckled. “Yes, I know, but there for a while, I thought you were.”
She stopped on the step in front of him. “You…you…you were not supposed to hear that.”
“Obviously, but I’m very grateful you rewarded me the privilege.”
She huffed. “If you were a real gentleman, you would pretend not to hear, and you would certainly not tease me about it.”
She was so adorable right now, making him want to laugh and to be by her side for the rest of the evening. But it was more than that. He wanted her in his arms. Now.
No , he argued with himself. Being so personal would only cause him pain. He must make her mad at him. That was the only way.
Laughter quickly left him as he moved in front of her. Since she stood on the bottom step, it made her exactly his height.
“What makes you presume I’m a gentleman?”
Confusion creased her brow. “Nicholas? What are you saying? Of course you are a gentleman.”
In one quick motion, he clamped his hands around her waist and roughly pulled her against him. She gasped. Was it in fear or excitement? He couldn’t be certain, but the sweet sound of her voice turned his insides to honey.
“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’m a gentleman. In fact, my sweet Catherine, I will warn you. Most women consider me a scoundrel, so beware. You don’t want to play your feminine games with me because if you do, you shall not escape unscathed.”
His original intent was to frighten her so she’d leave him alone, slap him, or say something hateful to make him stop. Instead, the heavy breaths fanning his face and the way she quivered told him she wasn’t frightened at all.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and suddenly the urge to kiss her overpowered him. As hard as he tried to fight it, he knew he couldn’t resist this time.
He roughly
All air escaped her lungs – or had she forgotten to breathe? Catherine stared blankly at him, not certain if she’d heard him wrong. Had he really called her mother’s name, Sophia? Why would he mistake her for her mother, unless...
Catherine gasped, covered her mouth and rushed out of the room. Slowly her mind pieced everything together and things began to make sense. He must want her because she looked so much like her mother. She’d resembled her mother at age fourteen, and that was when Grant offered for her. Since he couldn’t have Sophia, he was going to have her.
What am I going to do now? Was it too late to call everything off? Unfortunately, she doubted she could accomplish such a task even if she wanted.
She took slow steps down the long staircase, her mind spinning in a million different directions, keeping her from thinking straight. Really, there was nothing she could do. She was stuck in this relationship.
Catherine rubbed her forehead as a slight pound began. Why was life so complicated? Why did her parents have to promise her to a man who looked at her as if she were somebody else? How could she become married to a man when he’d think of her mother the whole time? This wasn’t fair!
“Blast it all,” she cursed fate aloud in vile anger, hitting her fist into the railing on the stairs.
* * * *
Nick walked through the hallway, heading toward the staircase when the sweet voice of a woman cursing floated through the air. He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Obviously the woman thought she was the only one in the house. After he turned the corner and noticed the person in question was Catherine, he did laugh – and hard.
She jumped from his sudden outburst and stopped on the stairs. Her face flamed at least three shades of red, which made his laughter grow.
“The perfect Catherine has a flaw after all.” Nick leaned his hip against the banister and stared up at her. She looked extremely lovely right now; so pure and sweet, but mostly intoxicating even with a scarlet-colored face.
“I’m not perfect,” she snapped and straightened her back as she continued to descend.
He chuckled. “Yes, I know, but there for a while, I thought you were.”
She stopped on the step in front of him. “You…you…you were not supposed to hear that.”
“Obviously, but I’m very grateful you rewarded me the privilege.”
She huffed. “If you were a real gentleman, you would pretend not to hear, and you would certainly not tease me about it.”
She was so adorable right now, making him want to laugh and to be by her side for the rest of the evening. But it was more than that. He wanted her in his arms. Now.
No , he argued with himself. Being so personal would only cause him pain. He must make her mad at him. That was the only way.
Laughter quickly left him as he moved in front of her. Since she stood on the bottom step, it made her exactly his height.
“What makes you presume I’m a gentleman?”
Confusion creased her brow. “Nicholas? What are you saying? Of course you are a gentleman.”
In one quick motion, he clamped his hands around her waist and roughly pulled her against him. She gasped. Was it in fear or excitement? He couldn’t be certain, but the sweet sound of her voice turned his insides to honey.
“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’m a gentleman. In fact, my sweet Catherine, I will warn you. Most women consider me a scoundrel, so beware. You don’t want to play your feminine games with me because if you do, you shall not escape unscathed.”
His original intent was to frighten her so she’d leave him alone, slap him, or say something hateful to make him stop. Instead, the heavy breaths fanning his face and the way she quivered told him she wasn’t frightened at all.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and suddenly the urge to kiss her overpowered him. As hard as he tried to fight it, he knew he couldn’t resist this time.
He roughly
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