Free The Men of Pride County: The Pretender by Rosalyn West

wed. He had little admiration for females, aside from their physical appeal, which he preferred to observe like fine art—from a distance. They were shallow and flighty and given to irrational fits that could only be appeased by bribery. They were a necessary inconvenience when one needed a dancing partner or to procreate. He found them unpredictable and unreliable, a threat to a man’s well-being.
    How often had some hare-brained scheme of his sister’s brought a whisper of disharmony to their home? Dramatic and temperamental, she was often more trouble than she was worth. He was anxious to push her out from under their roof under the control of some unfortunate fool who believed he could rule her. There weretimes when he was genuinely fond of Patrice. She could be amusing in her own way, and a fierce loyalty lay behind her merciless teasing. He could almost concede that she was a rarity within the gender—until he met Garnet.
    Despite their different upbringings, Garnet was in some ways similar to Patrice. They both spoke their minds—evidence that they actually had minds—and they displayed fortitude more often than feigned delicacy. He found their company … less than objectionable.
    He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander in a dangerous direction.
    What would married life be like if he were wed to a woman like Garnet? As soon as he posed that question of himself, a seditious whisper undercut it. Not a woman like Garnet. Garnet . Forget for a moment that that was impossible. Consider instead coming home to her conversation at dinner. Seeking out a mutual bed for more than just the obligatory heir. Enjoying the company of someone who was caring and clever, rather than self-absorbed and cunning. A novel idea. A damned attractive idea. One as disconcerting as the woman in question. Would he really want his life confused by emotions he couldn’t control?
    Would he really want to commit his heart at the risk of it being broken?
    His hand stilled atop her head.
    No.
    No.
    He closed down his mind, guarding his feelings against the possibility. It was his duty to place property and profits before any personal pleasures. A woman like Garnet would disrupt his priorities. Never mind that he was about to betray everything that she held sacred. This wasn’t the time, this wasn’t the woman, and he’d be courting disaster to think otherwise.
    Even as he shut her out of his thoughts, his body was aware of the contentment found in cuddling her closer. Hers was a form created for such a task—soft on the surface, steel underneath. And he yearned to embrace those pleasures. Pleasures that teased through a fitful sleep and roared to life upon waking.
    He was still there.
    Garnet lay unmoving, studying the relaxed features of the man beside her.
    He hadn’t left her.
    Hope quivered through her as she considered the way he’d cared for her, had comforted and encouraged her during her attack. The vulnerable embarrassment she might have felt was offset by the magnitude of his actions. She remembered the tenderness in the stroke of his hand, the gentle strength in his voice. That, combined with the way he’d kissed her, proved his intent was more than Samaritan.
    Didn’t it?
    She recalled the anxiety steeped in his eyes and the way he’d rocked her upon his lap. Could it be that he did have feelings for her?
    Could the man beside her hold the secret to her future happiness? Or was she setting herself up for heart break at his hands?
    It was early. Sunlight had yet to penetrate the winter gloom. Shadow softened the lines of Deacon’s face, making him seem more approachable, more attainable. Until his eyes opened with a snap, his body instantly alert.
    “Good morning.”
    At her soft greeting, some of the stiffness left his posture. Some, but not all. There was an edge of wariness to him she hadn’t noticed before.
    “How do you feel?”
    She took a sample breath and pronounced, “Fine. My chest hurts a little, but