A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper St. George
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Prudie had tried to convince her that that was the reason, that her parents only had her best interests at heart, but it hadn’t sunk in until now.
He took in a breath through his nose, shifting again to rest his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, his intense gaze holding hers. “Don’t you want to get married, have a family?”
She bristled. It wasn’t the first time that someone had questioned her, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t seem to accept the question as anything other than an attack on her. As if she couldn’t somehow follow her dream of helping people and become a wife and mother. “Of course, but not now. Not yet.” She did want that. She wanted a husband who danced with her and held her hand as they read the newspaper. She wanted babies with chubby little hands and soft skin.
But if she was honest, the question prodded a deeper bruise. Most of the men she met seemed to be put off by her ambition. What if no man wanted to marry her after medical school? What if that was the reason her parents wanted her married off?
She swallowed past that ache in her throat and looked away from him. She’d seen the beginning of interest in Castillo’s eyes when he’d looked at her on the train, and then again tonight. He found her attractive. She didn’t want to see that interest change now that he knew the truth about her.
The seconds passed, ticked off by the clock on the mantel above the fireplace, and he didn’t say anything. With every bit of will she possessed, she forced herself to meet his gaze. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. It wasn’t as if that little flirtation on the train meant anything.
His expression was unchanged, though, and unreadable. Finally, he said, “You admit that you do want to be married, so why not marry before medical school?”
“It’s not that easy. For one, it would require me to find a husband who is supportive of my choice. You can’t imagine how difficult that is. For two, I don’t know of a man I’d want to marry or who’d be interested in marrying me. Not in the next few months.”
He smiled then, and his gaze flicked over her features and down to her bosom and even lower to touch on her hips. She blushed at his scrutiny. Her face burned hotter when his gaze moved back up to hers and she could see that he appreciated what he saw. His eyes were a deeper green, somehow, and his smile...she couldn’t describe it. It wasn’t lecherous, like the men she sometimes passed in the street in the shabbier parts of town. It was admiring, appreciative, the way one might look upon a much-revered—friend? No, not a friend. It was too intimate for that. A lover?
Her body came alive at the thought, just as it had begun to come to life when he’d had his arms around her. Her heartbeat fluttered, and something pulsed dangerously low in her belly. Somehow, she became even more aware of his presence across from her. His powerful frame radiated heat.
“I won’t believe that you don’t have suitors.” Something about the way he said that, with that hint of an accent and with such certainty, had her squirming in her chair.
“Well, I haven’t.” She stared at her recently buffed fingernails because she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore. “That’s why I need your help.”
“Oh?” He seemed only mildly interested now, and she couldn’t fathom what he must be thinking.
Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she said, “I’ll keep quiet about who you are, about what I saw on the train, but I need you to compromise me.”
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