Free The Marriage Contract by Cathy Maxwell Page B

make a sound. Please, do it quickly.”
    The sight of her limp and waiting with closed eyes on the furs restored Aidan’s equilibrium. He walked over to her side. She didn’t open her eyes but her body tensed, waiting for him to pounce.
    For a moment, Aidan stood in silence. Then, he couldn’t resist. He leaned over and tickled her feet.
    It wasn’t what she’d expected. And she was very ticklish. She practically stood up in the bed.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded.
    “Counting your toes,” he answered. “You know, ‘how many little pigs go to market?’”
    “Are you mad?”
    “There’s a rumor to that effect,” he answered, and started laughing. She did too, and it was almost his undoing. Anne had a tinkling, merry laugh.
    It was more arousing than anything she’d done yet.
    Aidan took charge, fearing he really would go mad if this continued. He grabbed her by the knees, tossed her over his shoulder, and started out of the room.
    “Wait! What are you doing?” she said.
    “Taking you to your room. In answer to any questions you may have, the answer is no. No, we are not consummating the marriage. No, you are not staying. No, I’m not putting up with any more nonsense from you or anyone else.” He kicked open the door to her room and dropped her on the bed.
    “Goodnight, Anne.”
    But as he turned away, she grabbed his fox skin. “No, please, you can’t leave.”
    It was not a good move. He’d been all too aware she’d worn nothing beneath her night dress, and while his mind said no, other parts of him had not been so submissive. And he hesitated to parade in all his glory before her. If she knew her impact on him, he’d be clay in her hands.
    He grabbed the fur. “Let go, Anne.”
    “Please, you can’t send me back.” She tugged.
    He pulled. “I promise you will be handsomely compensated.”
    She released the fur. “You don’t understand! I can’t go back. There’s nothing to go back to! Nothing!” Tears welled in her eyes—and he was undone.
    Aidan hated to see a woman cry. It tore into him. He never knew what to do when one cried. “Here now, Anne, don’t go all upset.”
    “I’m not!” she denied. A lone tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She took an angry swipe at it. “I don’t cry. I don’t. ” But three more tears in quick succession branded her a liar.
    She turned away from him to face the back wall.
    Aidan should have walked out the door. He should have ignored her. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He sat on the edge of the bed and offered a corner of the sheet to her. “Here.”
    She shook her head, refusing his help.
    “Anne…It’s not so bad. In England, you’ll find someone who will make you happy. With the money I’m going to give you, your parents will be pleased—”
    “My parents are dead.”
    Her words lingered in the air. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes dry now. “I’m an orphan,” she said almost defiantly. “I lived with my aunt and uncle. They don’t want me back.”
    Aidan felt terrible and it must have shown on hisface because she said, “Don’t pity me. I’ve spent a good portion of my life being ‘Poor little Anne.’ The last thing I want from you is more pity.” She swiveled around to face him. “Aidan, I will be a good wife to you. Maybe I’m not your choice, but you aren’t mine, either.”
    “What’s wrong with me?” he asked, his pride piqued.
    “Nothing…except, well, you are a bit of a character. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as eccentric.” She paused. “What’s wrong with me?”
    “Nothing…except I don’t want a wife. Especially one who ramrods her way into my life and turns the world upside down.”
    “I didn’t want to,” she conceded. “If I was someone beautiful or came from a well-connected family, I wouldn’t be here. I’ve had two Seasons. No one offered for me. No dowry, no connections. Nice personality, well bred, but most men can do better. If I didn’t marry you, my uncle