Page 116 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Make no mistake, Miss Crenshaw, our parents are decided that I will marry you or your sister. But, if you have doubts, we will ask them. First, however, you will answer one question: would you rather marry Somerset?”

“Yes.”

Her heart broke as the seconds of silence passed, then he canted his head. “You will marry Somerset, then. Shall we inform our parents?”

“There is nothing to tell them. I may prefer him, but that doesn’t mean I will marry him.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” she broke off, silently adding, because he prefers my sister—and because I am a fool, then said, “Because I am ruined for any man of character.”

“But Somerset is a man of character and he did ask you to marry him, repeatedly.”

“That was before.”

Lord Rushton leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Before you sullied yourself with the likes of me?”

“I doubt it would matter who the man was,” she said.

Eve hadn’t lied when she told Grace she wasn’t angry that Grace was more beautiful. Eve had had her share of suitors, a few who she felt sincerely held some genuine affection for her. But to discover that the man who had only days ago threatened a duel in her honor had fallen in love with her sister hurt.

“I doubt any other man could have incited you to kidnap him,” Lord Rushton said.

“That is most certainly true.”

“You need never fear that I will think you unworthy of my esteem.” He flashed a smile. “As I am not a man of character, there is no danger of you falling from grace.”

Had she heard right? “How am I to take that, my lord? Does your lack of character mean you don’t care that I am no better than you? Or is it that since I have fallen to your depths, you see us on even footing? Or perhaps I should take comfort in the fact you have no character, therefore, you do not require a wife of character?” She gave him a cold smile. “I suppose I win in any case.”

“A woman who can depend upon her husband’s feelings remaining constant is fortunate,” he said.

Yes, she was fortunate. He didn’t love her and never would. Her father had been right. “I am the most fortunate of women.”

“Not yet,” he said, “but you will be.”

“I shall be the envy of every eligible—” and many an ineligible “—lady of the ton.”

“Yes, you will—if I do my job properly,” he drawled.

Dear God, the cad actually sounded pleased with himself.

He lifted a brow. “Perhaps you would like a taste of your good fortune?”

“A what?”

“This.”

His hand shot about her waist and he yanked her to him. Her breasts and belly crashed against his hard body and liquid fire ignited in her core.

Eve gasped. “Have you gone mad?”

“I believe I have,” he said. Then kissed her.

Eve slammed her palms against his shoulders to shove him away, but his mouth ravished hers with such insistence that the strength ebbed from her. This wasn’t the slow assault he’d waged on her in the ship’s cabin. This, she realized with a jolt, was unadulterated lust. His mouth slid down her cheek and along the curve of her throat. She became conscious of the steel rod pressing into her abdomen, then his mouth found the curve of her breast above the fabric of her dress. He tugged her bodice and cool air washed over her breasts.

“Sir!” Eve grabbed for her bodice.

“Hush.”