Page 129 of If the Slipper Fits
They stopped speaking in unison. Smiled at each other in awkward apology.
Caden gestured for her to continue. “Please.”
She cleared her throat. “I simply wished to share with you that, following our discussion, Lady Wentworth deemed it proper to recant her previous accusation.”
“That was kind of her--but completely unnecessary, in light of the obvious.”
Her questioning look annoyed him.
“The fact we were—are—already betrothed?”
“Ah.” She ducked her head “You heard her say she took care of the Bolton problem?”
“I did. Your point?” he asked through set teeth.
“As I'm no longer in danger, we no longer have to keep up the pretense of a…fake engagement.”
Fakeengagement?“Anna, there was nothing fake about it, and well you know it.”
Pressing her lips together, she pushed past him to stand at the stone railing, facing out. She heaved a visible sigh. “I’m not doing a good job of this, am I?”
He moved to stand beside her. He glared at her profile. “Depends. What exactly are you trying to do?”
She shifted to face him, her expression devoid of any discernible emotion. She, who had no poker face. The lack thereof said it all.
Meanwhile he employed every ounce of will he possessed to hide the feelings running roughshod through him. Fear. Anger. A gut-wrenching need for her to give him one shred of evidence she had ever actually cared for him. And disgust—at his own weakness. When had he become this pathetic excuse for a man? If he wasn't so bloody miserable, he'd laugh at the caricature he’d made of himself.
“Your reason for offering for me, if you can call it that, no longer exists. You wanted to keep me safe. Well, now I'm safe.”
“There is also the small matter of our having lain together--on multiple occasions. There could be consequences.”
She lowered her lashes, and a muscle ticked in her jaw. So she did feelsomething.
“You refer to the possibility I am with child?”
“Obviously.”
“In light of…” She hesitated, her cheeks turning a furious shade of pink, “…your actions at the time of our…your, er…”
Her show of vulnerability, however minute, cut through his veneer of icy calm. He couldn't stop his impulse to trace his fingertips over her jawline.
“That's not a fool-proof method, darling. And that was only the once. This morning, I spilled my seed inside of you. Or don’t you recall?”
She closed her eyes briefly, then took an unsteady step backward, recoiling from his touch. “In any case, I can deal with such an eventuality, I'm sure, should the need arise."
His stomach pitched. “Like hell. As if I would ever shirk responsibility for my own child.”
Her scoffing laugh turned his blood to pure ice. “Your responsibility. Yes, of course. God forbid Caden Thurgood not step in as honor would demand.”
He jammed a hand through his hair. “You act as if honor is a bad thing."
“It's a fine thing. One of the traits about you I ado—” She broke off. “—admire most."
“Why do I hear a but at the end of your statement?” Coldness filled him, spreading to all his extremities.
She met his eyes with an unblinking stare. “A child may be reason enough for you to wed, but, for me, there needs to be...there ought to be, something more.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.
At once, her meaning hit home—and gutted him.
