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An Arranged Marriage. Susan Fox
Читать онлайн.Название An Arranged Marriage
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Автор произведения Susan Fox
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
The blue cotton was hot to the touch, heated by the warm flesh of the man who wore it. Beneath her fingers, Blue’s heart thudded at a steady pace while hers raced out of control. And now that she was staring up into his rugged, handsome face, she felt her knees weaken and begin to tremble.
Blue didn’t miss a flicker of Allison’s changeable facial expressions. Surprise, wariness, attraction, fear—not exactly the acceptance and desire he wanted to see when she looked at him. But that little hand pressed against his chest directly over his heart felt like the business end of a branding iron. Though she didn’t mean it at all, somehow she was setting a mark on him.
“I’d like to show you the house,” he said gruffly, easing back so her hand would fall away. He didn’t release his gentle hold on her elbow, however, until they started out of the entry hall to begin their tour.
Allison was relieved when Blue’s firm grip went slack and she was able to casually move her arm away. Normally, courtesy would have made her submit to this tour of his home. But courtesy had nothing to do with giving herself this time to recover her wits.
She could still feel the warm imprint of his fingers on her skin, was still trembling with the excitement his touch had set off. Finding her hand pressed to his chest—a gesture that seemed quite intimate—had shaken her. Even the occasional meeting of their gazes as they walked through the huge home sent little bolts of sexual awareness through her.
Desperate to distract herself, Allison looked around, making herself focus on each room and ask appropriate questions. She didn’t have to force herself to admire the big house. The main floor boasted the large entry hall with an open staircase to the second floor, a living room, dining room, den, small parlor, family room, a vast kitchen and a double suite of rooms for a live-in cook and housekeeper.
The second floor featured a master suite with an old-fashioned nursery connected and a walk-in closet easily half as large as the master bedroom. There were six other bedrooms and another small suite of rooms near the back stairs for a butler.
Allison couldn’t help her curiosity. “A butler?”
Blue’s gaze met hers, then ricocheted away. “Was invited to a house party in Dallas where they had a butler. I admired the order of the house he kept.”
They ended in the spacious kitchen downstairs. “The decorator’s planned out for curt—er, window treatments and carpets,” Blue told her as he leaned back against a counter, his arms crossed over his chest, “but you can meet with her tomorrow to see if you approve.”
He ignored her startled look and went on. “You can pick the furniture, just so our bed or anything I have to use isn’t fussy or womanish. Or white, since I’m still a rancher and always will be.”
Allison stared in mild shock as he casually laid out his plan for her to meet with his decorator and furnish his home. She’d been hoping that sometime during the tour he’d come to his senses and realize what folly it was for either of them to take his marriage proposal seriously.
Instead, submitting to the tour seemed to have signaled to him some measure of her consent. Allison shook her head. “Mr. Sumner—please understand. As flattering as your proposal is, I can’t possibly marry you.”
The hard gaze he leveled on her made her uneasy. “Not good enough, huh?”
It took her a moment to recover from the blunt question. And a moment more to register the flash of emotion behind the words.
“Good enough has nothing to do with my refusal, Mr. Sumner. We don’t know each other,” she emphasized with gentle candor.
“And if we knew each other?”
The question unsettled her and Allison fought to suppress her sudden, secret reaction to the idea as she tried to give him a calm answer.
“We could know each other well and still not have the kind of love a marriage requires. I can’t marry a man I’m not in love with. And I don’t think you’d truly be happy marrying a woman you aren’t in love with, either.”
“Love…” The cynical gleam in his gaze chided her. “Love’s nothing more than a rush of lust and hormones that fools mistake for sentiment. Soon as the lust is satisfied, the hormones settle. That’s when those same fools think they’ve fallen out of love.” His faint emphasis mocked the word.
Allison was taken aback. “You don’t believe in love?”
The level look he gave her somehow made her sad. “Love’s right up there with Santa and the Easter Bunny, Miz Lancaster. Kid myths, but myths all the same,” he said, then went on somberly. “I wasn’t born to wealth and I’m not college educated, but I’m steady, reliable and hardworking. I’ll be a faithful, sober husband, a good father to my kids and a good provider to a faithful wife.”
Allison glanced away, caught off guard by the intensity of his declaration, but struck by the absolute sincerity of it. Love was a myth to him, yet the things he wanted couldn’t be achieved without it.
Thoughts of her aunt Petula’s loveless marriage to Charles filled her mind. Uncle Charles had never been faithful to Aunt Pet and had never provided anything for Pet that hadn’t originally come from her large inheritance. Because Charles had never loved her aunt, he’d never been interested in having children with her. Because he’d never loved her, their home was anything but warm and loving.
Allison’s memories of her own parents, killed when she was only nine, were of two people completely in love who doted on each other and on the child their love had created. Allison hungered for that kind of love, that kind of marriage.
The alternative, represented by Charles and Petula’s coldly formal relationship, was unacceptable. No matter how wonderful Blue’s pledge sounded now, how long would it take for the loveless union he wanted to go wrong?
Allison made herself look directly at Blue as she spoke. “Those are honorable goals, Mr. Sumner. I think you must be quite a good man to have them.” She hesitated, clenching her handbag in front of her to keep her hands from fluttering as wildly as her insides were fluttering. “But I can’t marry a man who doesn’t value love.”
Blue didn’t blink, didn’t seem to even take a breath before he drawled, “Then your answer is no.”
Allison somehow maintained eye contact with the burning probe of his gaze. “My answer is no.”
Blue glanced down briefly, his eyes hidden by the brim of the Stetson he’d worn during their tour of the house. At just the moment Allison felt a strange tug of sympathy, the black hat brim lifted to reveal the determination in his gaze.
His low, “Then I’ll have to find a way to change your mind,” came out in a raspy drawl that sent a flood of heat through her. The way he was looking at her now—as if he were about to grab her up and carry her off to a cave somewhere—made his declaration as much a threat as a promise.
A confusing mix of dismay and excitement sent color into her cheeks and a flush over her skin. Allison couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The peculiar attraction she’d felt toward Blue in the past suddenly escalated to something breathlessly sensual and compelling. The notion that he meant to change her mind about marrying him was dizzying.
But the fact that he might somehow be successful terrified her. Surely she could never be seduced into marrying a stranger who didn’t believe in love. But as she stood there frozen, unable to look away from Blue Sumner’s ruggedly handsome face, she realized she might be in danger of doing just that.
Somehow, she regained her composure. Her stiff, “Good afternoon, Mr. Sumner,” and her abrupt turn and stilted exit from the huge kitchen did nothing to break the sensual pull between them. Though she was aware that Blue’s booted stride echoed hers down the long hall to the entry and the front