Page 106 of If the Slipper Fits
“It’s a simple question.”
He unfolded his long legs from the bed, jammed his hands into his pockets and began to pace. “I should think it obvious.”
“To you, perhaps.”
Brows furrowed, he moved back toward her, not stopping ’til he loomed over her. “Anna, you were a virgin—”
“—I knew it.” She sprang to her feet, hands fisting at her sides. “You intend to entrap yourself. I won’t have it.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t consider it thus.”
She threw up her hands. “Every girl’s dream. To receive an offer of marriage based on a man’s misplaced sense of obligation and duty.”
The casual smile he sent her did nothing to disguise the sudden bleakness in his expression. “There’s nothing misplaced about it, darling. The fact is…” His eyes softened, crinkling at the corners. “…we made love.”
Her insides trembled at the softly spoken words.
“…and now we shall marry.”
She held fast to her resolve as her heart broke in a million pieces. “It’s not that simple.”
He nodded. “I’m aware you didn’t choose this, didn’t choose to find yourself alter bound with me in particular, but it’s where we are, darling.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I vow Iwilltry to make you a good husband.”
Anna blinked rapidly. He had everything all wrong. He was exactly the man she’d choose to marry were she free to do so, and were his reasons for proposing based on love and affection.
Me in particular,he’d said. And what was that nonsense about himtryingto make her a good husband? Of course he’d be a good husband. He’d be a marvelous husband.
Abruptly she understood. Caden didn’t see himself as she saw him—as he truly was. He thought he wasn’t good enough. They’d discussed his skewed opinion of himself at the inn. She’d thought she’d disabused him of the notion. She ought to have known better. Caden, the man, was nothing if not stubborn.
Thus, he’d handed her a way out. All she had to do was agree with his summation of himself as a profligate philanderer ne’er do well.
She wouldn’t do it.
“You must admit I have the right of it.”
“I admit nothing. I do not wish to marry you for the reasons you cite.”
“I see.” He studied her, his expression inscrutable. “What reason, do you suppose, would justify you wanting to marry?—me, specifically, by the by.”
Heat bloomed over her, pulsing off her cheeks. The wordlovehovered on the tip of her tongue, but, of course, would remain unspoken.
He traced his fingertips along her jawline. “You were saying?”
Heaven above, that felt good. Her eyes drifted closed and, helpless to resist, she pressed into his touch. “I think…I think…”
“Yes?”
“I would very much prefer to beun-married before discussing any future engagement.”
“Ah. An excellent point.” He spoke the words in a gruff whisper.
His hand curved around her nape, while his free arm encircled her waist, pulling her ever-so-slightly closer.
She tried to recapture her resolve. It slipped out of reach like a fish in water.
He was too close. His allure, too powerful. Her defenses were no proof against his hands on her body, or the spicy masculine scent of him teasing her nostrils.
“There’s one glaring problem, Mrs. Jones.” He lowered his lips to her ear. The velvet rumble of his voice curled through her, turning her bones to jelly.
