Free The Heiress Bride by Catherine Coulter Page A

and out of his head.
    He watched with half-closed eyes as Joan came into the room. He was testy and hungry. He didn’t want her there. He needed a man to help him.
    â€œAh, good, you’re awake,” Sinjun said, giving him a smile that lit up the bedchamber. “How do you feel?”
    He grunted.
    â€œShould you like me to shave you? I shaved Tysen’s head once while Ryder held him down. Not more than ten years ago. I could try, and I would be very careful.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThe strangest thing, Colin, there’s a man downstairs who claims he’s your cousin.”
    That brought him bolt upright in the bed. The covers fell to his belly and he could but stare ather. Which cousin? None of his cousins knew he was here, did they? Ah, MacDuff did.
    â€œThat’s not possible,” he said, and fell back to the pillows. Sinjun was looking at the line the covers made below his waist. She swallowed. He was so beautiful, all hard and long, black hair covering his chest, ah, but it narrowed to a soft black trail and disappeared beneath the covers. He was too thin, she could see his ribs, but that would change.
    â€œYou must stay warm,” she said, and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, even though she wanted to pull them to his feet and look at him for six hours at least.
    â€œJoan, you’re not jesting? MacDuff is here?”
    She blinked. “MacDuff? He didn’t give me his name, just said he was your favorite cousin. MacDuff, as in Shakespeare’s MacDuff?”
    â€œYes. As boys, we all called him MacCud—”
    â€œAs in a Scottish cow?”
    He grinned. “That’s it. His real name is Francis Little, absurd for someone of his height, breadth, and width, so we chose MacDuff for him when we were boys. As I recall, he threatened to smash us in the dirt if we didn’t stop calling him MacCud and change it to MacDuff.”
    â€œIt fits him better than Francis Little, which isn’t at all right for a man with a chest the width of a tree trunk. MacDuff! That’s very clever, Colin. I imagine you devised that name. You know, he’s got the reddest hair and no freckles. His eyes are as blue as a summer sky—”
    â€œHis eyes are just the same shade as yours. Stop your rhapsodizing about my bloody giant of a cousin. Bring him up.”
    â€œNo,” Sinjun said. “Not until you’ve eaten your breakfast. Ah, here’s Finkle right now. He’ll assist you with other matters as well. I will be back in afew minutes and help you eat.”
    â€œI don’t need your help.”
    â€œCertainly not, but you will enjoy my company, won’t you?”
    He just looked at her. She smiled at him, kissed his closed mouth lightly, and nearly danced from the room.
    She turned at the doorway. “Should you like to marry me tomorrow?”
    He gave her a look that held irritation rather than shock, and said, “You would have a memorable wedding night. I would be lying dead to the world at your side and that would be it.”
    â€œI shouldn’t mind. We have the rest of our lives together.”
    â€œI refuse to wed you until I can bed you properly.” It was a stupid thing for him to say, he realized. He needed to wed her in the next hour, if it were possible. Time was growing short. He desperately needed her money.
    Â 
    Sinjun sat back, watching the two cousins talk. They were speaking quietly, so she couldn’t understand them, nor did she really want to eavesdrop, something at which she was really quite accomplished. With three older brothers, she’d learned at a very young age that most information kept from her, wicked or otherwise, was best discovered through a keyhole. She looked out the window down into the enclosed garden. It was a cool day, but the sky was clear and blue and the flowers and plants in the garden were in full bloom. She heard Colin laugh and looked up, smiling.