Authors: Cheryl Holt
Evidently he’d had his heart broken, and he didn’t like the feeling.
She was a mystery woman, full of secrets. She had dangerous brigands following her, a family that was fighting, and she was obscenely rich, but he’d never cared much for rich people. They were callous and clueless and never appreciated all that they had.
There were many reasons for him
not
to have fallen for her, but he had and he wouldn’t try to figure it out. It had happened. Cupid’s arrow had struck without warning, and the only route forward was to slink out of Cairo before he made an even bigger fool of himself.
He had his traveling trunk open, and he was tossing clothes into it. He didn’t have much to put in. When he’d first trekked to Egypt, he’d been equipped for a protracted expedition, but after their disaster on the rapids, most of his belongings had been lost. The items he possessed now had been accumulated since then, and it was barely enough to bother with a trunk. He ought to find a portmanteau and use that.
He was in a temper and restless as a caged bear. After having quit his job as Kat’s bodyguard, he was anxious to leave immediately.
He and Chase had spent the day inquiring about the journey home. In the morning, they would retrieve their wages, then sail to Alexandria where it would be easier to book passage to London. They’d already hired the boat that would take them up the river.
At this sad juncture, he wasn’t concerned over how he got to England. He just wanted to go.
In the outer parlor, someone entered his suite. He sighed, hoping it wasn’t Chase. With Bryce’s low disposition, he wasn’t in any mood to deal with his friend.
But as he listened to footsteps crossing the tiled floor, he realized it was a female, and he scowled, not eager for it to be a servant. He wasn’t the type to tumble the hired help, and he was too grouchy to abide an awkward scene.
“Bryce?”
He whipped around, stunned to see Kat. To his consternation, she’d dressed for bed. Her hair was down and brushed out, the lengthy locks curling to her bottom. She was attired in a negligee and robe, both garments sewn from an intriguing material that shimmered when she moved.
He glanced down and noted that her toenails were painted red. Had she painted them just for him? Was she trying to entice him? To goad him? Into what conduct? Why would she?
He pointed at her, his irate finger quaking with wrath. “Turn around and get your ass out of here, Miss Webster.”
“Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’d have to care about you to be angry. Go away.”
“I have to talk to you.”
“Go away!”
“Please?”
Her green eyes were poignant and beseeching, and he couldn’t stand to gaze into them. He spun away and pitched a shirt into his trunk.
“We’ve said everything that ever needs to be discussed.”
She stated the obvious. “You’re packing.”
“Yes, I am.”
“When are you leaving?”
“If I thought it was any of your business, I’d tell you.”
“Will it be tomorrow?”
“Miss Webster! Your presence is extremely disconcerting, and I don’t wish to be further upset by you.”
He whipped around again, ready to scold, ready to bark and bite, but she’d sneaked over when he wasn’t paying attention, so she was right beside him.
“My answer is
yes
,” she said.
“To what question?”
“You asked me to marry you, and I refused. I’ve changed my mind. I want to be your bride. I accept.”
“You’re laboring under the mistaken impression that there is still a proposal on the table. There isn’t.”
“You can’t propose one day, then renege the next.”
“I can and I have.”
“No. You took me by surprise, and I gave you the wrong answer. I’m giving you the correct one now.”
“And the
correct
answer is what, that you’ll lower yourself to have me?”
She clutched his shirt and shook him. “Will you stop claiming I feel I’m too far above you?”
“I’ll stop claiming it when you stop acting as if you are.”
He flicked her hands away, not able to bear being touched by her. It was torture to have her so near, barely dressed, and supplying the response he’d been desperate to receive.
“What happened between yesterday and today?” he asked. “Yesterday, you were adamantly opposed. Yet today, you’re eager as pie. Pardon me if I seem a tad skeptical.”
“I’m all alone in the world, Bryce.”
“So am I, but then I’ve always been alone. My parents passed away when I was five, so I’ve lived this way for decades. How about you? You’ve had a bad couple of months. Boo-hoo,” he hissed like a child. “I’m having difficulty mustering any sympathy.”
“I only mention it to explain my behavior. I was confused and couldn’t decide what was best. It’s since become obvious that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Don’t flatter or sweet-talk me. It won’t change my opinion.”
“I love you,” she blurted out.
He banged a palm on his ear as if it was plugged. “My hearing must be affected. I could have sworn you just announced that you love me.”
“Yes, I said it, and I say it again. I love you.”
“You don’t mean that,” he scoffed. “You can’t mean it.”
“I do. It occurred to me in the wee hours when it was dark and quiet, and I couldn’t figure out why I was so miserably glum. What will you do about it? I’m brave enough to declare my feelings. Will you pout and mope and depart Cairo without me?”
She’d thoroughly perplexed him. He was very proud and had an enormous ego. He’d never previously proposed to a woman, and when she’d rebuffed him, he’d been devastated. Yet now…she was singing a totally different tune.
His head was spinning. What was true? What was false? Why would she abruptly be excited to proceed? It made no sense.
“You seriously expect me to believe you’re anxious to be my bride.”
“Yes.”
“You expect me to believe you’re delighted to wed an actor, to be a humble actor’s wife.”
“Yes, and there’s nothing
humble
about you, Bryce Blair. Don’t you dare denigrate yourself to me. I don’t know who your father was, but blood will tell. It’s clear your veins pulse with the blood of a king and the heart of a lion.”
It was the perfect moment to admit his failed ancestry, but he couldn’t bring himself to enlighten her. He wouldn’t raise himself up in her esteem. She insisted she wanted him—even though he was simply an actor. He wouldn’t provide her with a reason to suppose he might be
more
than an actor.
To hell with her and her conceited views!
“I had some news from home,” she told him.
“What was it?”
“My relatives are ordering me to return.”
“As you’ve kept your past a complete secret, I have no idea whether to congratulate you or commiserate.”
“If I take Nicholas back, they’ll get their greedy hands on his fortune.”
“That’s too bad.” He liked Nicholas very much and wouldn’t pretend he didn’t.
“And…they’ll make me marry a man I hate, the man who destroyed my family.”
Bryce frowned. The revelation was terribly distressing. His Katarina wed to another? His Kat, shackled to a fiend she loathed?
All his anger and upset flew out the window. Could he stand idly by and lose her? Could he allow her despicable kin to hurt her brother? Hurt her?
They’d already sent her reeling to the desert in search of her uncle, and if Cedric Webster was any indication of the type of swine who were commanding her now, she was in extreme danger. He would never deliver her to their custody and control.
“Will you go as they’ve decreed?” he inquired.
“No, and when I realized I could say
no
to them, it dawned on me that I can say
yes
to you. I need no one’s advice or permission. So ask me again, Bryce. Ask me to marry you.”
“This seems so bizarre, Kat. I’m no longer convinced we should proceed.”
“I’m not playing games, and I’m not jesting. I’ll have you and no other.”
Suddenly she shucked off her robe so she was attired in just her negligee. It hugged every curvaceous inch of her body, and his cock sprang to attention.
“Tell me you don’t love me,” she said.
“I don’t think I do,” he stubbornly replied.
“Tell me you won’t have me.”
“Kat! Stop it.”
“Let’s find out what you really want and what you don’t, shall we?”
She grabbed the straps of her negligee, tugged them off her shoulders, and the slippery garment slid down to pool at her feet. In an instant, she was naked.
“Your move, Mr. Blair, and this might be checkmate.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kat stood before Bryce, naked as the day she’d been born. Her pulse was racing, but she kept her head high and summoned all her royal training not to display a single hint of nerves.
She’d stripped off her clothes as a dare, as a challenge, but from how he was glaring at her, she wasn’t sure it was the right move.
He looked angry and disgusted, as if she’d proved herself a whore—or worse. Was there something worse than a whore? She was so naïve in the ways of the world that she had no idea.
If she’d been more experienced at amour, she’d have known how to flirt and cajole, but she didn’t know how, and she didn’t have time to waste figuring them out.
He was a lusty man who reveled in carnal behavior, and she’d been positive, if she could coax him into a physical encounter, all would be forgiven. But what if she was wrong?
If so, she’d made the biggest blunder ever, but just as she was about to admit defeat, he grabbed her and tossed her onto his bed. He fell on her as if he was possessed, like a wild beast stalking its prey.
“Be careful what you wish for, Katarina.”
“Why?”
“Because you might get it.”
“That’s what I’m hoping. Why do you suppose I took off my negligee?”
“I can’t guess why, but it was likely a moment of temporary insanity. What precisely are you expecting to accomplish?”
“I’m expecting you to put your proposal back on the table.”
“You think a bit of nudity will bring you what you desire?”
“It seems to work for other women. Why not me?”
He snorted with disgust. “Are you yearning to fornicate? Is that your ploy?”
“I don’t know what that word means. I’ve never known.”
“It’s also called
mating
. It’s how a babe is created. If I decide to try it with you, I’d have to wed you when we were finished. I wouldn’t have a choice.”
“Good.”
“I
want
to have a choice. I won’t be commanded. Most especially by a female.”
“Then choose to fornicate.” She flung her arms to the side, like a virgin about to be sacrificed on an altar. “Have your way with me, then marry me when we’re through.”
“I don’t want to marry you. I thought I did, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“Liar,” she said. “You’re too honorable, Bryce. You would never have proposed unless you craved it very, very much.”
“Tell me what’s really happening. Why are you suddenly so eager?”
“I already told you. I don’t have to have my relatives picking my husband. That’s how it’s always been handled in my country, but my parents are deceased, and I would never allow my cousin to pick for me.”
“Your cousin is the one you loathe? The one you’d have to wed if you went home?”
“Yes.”
“So you’d shackle yourself to me instead, merely to avoid it?”
“No, I’d do it because I love you, and there’s no one to prevent me.”
He stared down her body, and it was clear he enjoyed what he was seeing. Why was he hesitating? Why was he so reluctant? She was so unschooled in passion. She wished she knew a coquette’s tricks so she could spur him to the ending she sought.
“What if I proceeded,” he said, “but refused to marry you afterward?”
“You’re too decent to act like that.”
“You can’t be sure of that. What if—deep down—I’m as much a cad as any other man? What if I ravished you, then walked away?”
“Go ahead,” she defiantly replied. “Let’s discover what kind of man you are
deep down
.”
He was perched on some sort of personal ledge and about to jump off. Would he? Could she push him? Would it help? Or would it simply make him more opposed?
She brushed her mouth to his. He froze, but didn’t respond, which was so exasperating.
“I’m rich and beautiful,” she said, “and I’m begging you to have me. Take me, you bloody fool.”
He was trembling with restraint then, as if a dam burst, he pulled her to him and initiated his own kiss. It was nothing like the tepid peck she’d just given him. It was the type of heat and hunger she’d always imagined two people could share together, but in her stilted world, she’d never witnessed it.
His tongue was in her mouth, his questing hands everywhere. He caressed and massaged, pitching her into a heightened state of ecstasy.
Why had she waited to the ripe old age of twenty-five to wallow in carnality? Then again with a different man, she probably wouldn’t have been so enticed. From the moment she’d espied him in Valois’s courtyard, practicing his fencing, she’d been intrigued.
She was so lucky to have met him! She was so glad!
He blazed a trail to her breasts, to her nipples. He tormented them, sucking and playing, pinching and biting. She knew what was coming, and when he touched her between her legs, she exploded, her anatomy shattering into a thousand pieces.
As she reached the peak, as she floated down, he was glaring at her. How could she bring a smile to his handsome face? How could she convince him to love her?
“Oh, Bryce, stop scowling.” She traced a finger across his creased brow, easing away the worry lines.
“You claim you’d like to wed me. When would we do it?” The question seemed to be yanked from his very soul.
“How about first thing in the morning?”
Apparently it was the correct answer, the answer he needed to hear. He sat on his haunches and tugged off his shirt.
“How can I be certain you mean it?” he asked. “I’ve learned since yesterday that you’re very fickle.”
“I’m not. Not really. You simply overwhelmed my better sense.”