Gallant Waif by Anne Gracie (the alpha prince and his bride full story free .txt) 📗

to his embraces. He knew perfectly well that his kisses left her with about as much resolution as a blancmange, leaving her with no desire to call a halt to anything. But how. . .how scurrilous of him to taunt her with it. She stood there glowering helplessly.

A slight, knowing smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, you are so infuriating!” she snapped. “For your information, I have no intention of marrying. Not you! Not anyone! Not ever!”

“Rubbish!”

“It is not rubbish, it happens to be true.”

He watched her from under thunderous black brows. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her refer to this nonsense. He could no more imagine Kate Farleigh going through life as a lonely spinster than he could fly.

“And why not, Miss Farleigh? I have heard you assert it, but you have yet to offer one convincing reason. I know what women want—” Jack could not keep the sneer out of his voice ”—wealth, a fine home, position, admiration and some poor besotted sap to hand it to them on a platter. There isn’t a woman born who doesn’t scheme after that.”

Kate winced at his cynical view of marriage. Was he speaking from personal experience? Someone had hurt him; she could see that clearly. Julia? Kate couldn’t speak for all women, of course, but, for herself, none of those things mattered—only love. But Henri had stolen Kate’s right to be respected; without respect, there could be no love. So she could not marry. Lisbon had taught her that. Lisbon and Harry, her betrothed.

“You are wrong about most women, but I can see you will not listen. All I can do is repeat that I have no intention of marrying. As for my reasons, they are very personal and private. Your grandmother knows and that is why she did not press me to accompany her back to London, why she found me this temporary position as your housekeeper instead.”

He snorted. “Balderdash! My grandmother only offered you this position because you are too blasted stubborn to know what is good for you. This position was nothing but a temporary sop to your pride. She has every intention of introducing you to society. There is no reason on earth why you cannot marry some rich, respectable fool.”

He stared down at her, his eyes hard and glittering, his mouth compressed with anger. “You just have to get yourself out of my hair and up to London, flutter those long eyelashes at whichever gentleman meets your requirements, murmur softly in his ear in that smoky soft voice, smile and swish that delectable little body in front of him. Before the poor fool can say ‘boo’ you will be walking up the aisle on his arm and, no doubt, within a year or two you will be dandling his heir damply on your knee.”

His long hard fingers bit into her shoulders and he shook her as he spoke. Kate’s mouth quivered with anguish at his unconscious cruelty. To hear the impossible, put into words like that, painting such a cosy, utterly unattainable picture…

Jack could feel every breath entering and leaving her body, smell the sweet clean fragrance of rosemary in her hair. She quivered under his hands and he took a long, rasping breath.

“And if he proves a touch reluctant in popping the question, then just you look at him like that and the poor idiot won’t be able to help himself.” With a groan he planted his mouth on hers and she was swept again into the maelstrom of emotion that was becoming so dear and so wondrously familiar to her.

Eventually he released her mouth and stood looming over her, breathing hard. Kate, her senses still reeling under the impact of his embrace, clutched his shoulders and arms, leaning against his warm, heaving chest for support.

Shakily she gathered together the tattered remains of her self-control and pushed against the powerful chest and arms that enclosed her.

Instantly he released her and stepped back. Kate was conscious of a feeling of isolation so intense that it threatened to shatter her resolution. She wanted to lean back into that hard, wonderful embrace again, but she could not. She retreated to the other side of the room and stood there, gathering her composure.

Kate, with every reason in the world to insist on complete propriety, had failed to do so. If that was what was bothering him, she would ensure that the kisses stopped. She was sure she could manage it, especially if the consequence for failure was for her to be sent away to London. Away from him.

After a few moments she said shakily, “You are mistaken about a great many things, Mr Carstairs, but you are quite correct about one—this behaviour must stop.” She took a deep breath and continued in a cold little voice, “I apologise for my part in any impropriety that has taken place. Rest assured, it will not occur again. You will have my full cooperation in that. But I will not go to London.”

Jack stood and watched her, his eyes sombre. He nodded briefly and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Kate picked up her dust rag. Tears began to spill from her eyes.

The days passed, but there was no more mention of sending Kate to Lady Cahill. There was little mention of anything at all, for she and Jack rarely spoke unless they couldn’t help it.

Christmas came and went as if it were just another day. But it wasn’t, not for Kate. After church, she went to some trouble to make an especially good dinner, but Jack did not join them, so it was a very subdued meal with just Martha and Carlos attending. The farm girls had been given the day off, and in any case it was too bitterly cold to do much else but huddle near the fire.

For Kate it was a day of intense, searing loneliness, recalling Christmases past with her brothers playing all sorts of silly tricks and games…

She tried to be strong about it,