He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) (21 page)

She peered on as the doctor worked, slightly sick, as he cleaned the filthy, clotted blood from the wound. After pronouncing that Marcus required stitches, he cleaned a needle by the fire and threaded it swiftly. Mr. Pensly arrived with a bottle of brandy, offering it to Marcus so he could dull the pain.

Danni interjected immediately, “He cannot drink it, sir.”

The innkeeper rechecked the label on the bottle, clearly confused. “I do not understand. It’s our finest! A family recipe.”

“I am sure it is an excellent vintage, but I am no longer able to stomach liquor. It makes me quite ill,” Marcus explained. Danni, although she’d had her suspicions since he had not touched the stuff since their time in the forest, was relieved to hear it.

Mr. Pensly’s eyes widened. “But the pain, my lord!”

Marcus subtly reached for her hand. Danni held tightly as the doctor appraised Marcus’s scarred chest. “I am certain this man will be able to handle a few stitches.”

It was then the innkeeper glimpsed the scars spattering Marcus’s skin. He paled and swayed slightly. Biting back her annoyance, she took his elbow and led him to the door. “Perhaps it is best if you see to your other guests. I am sure Dr. Grogg will update you when he completes the procedure.”

He clutched the bottle to his chest. “Yes. That is a brilliant notion.”

Danni closed the door behind him, glad to be rid of the pest. She returned to Marcus’s side and seated herself on the other side of the bed. His head shifted away from the doctor’s preparations, eyes wide with uncharacteristic nervousness. Sweat beaded his brow, his legs trembled. She feared these moments of pain would open a rush of terrible memories for him. He seemed to hesitate before mouthing, “Don’t leave me.”

Danni’s heart skipped. She caught his hand in her grasp again in reassurance. Danni knew she shouldn’t respond. She knew it would only cause problems for them later, but she couldn’t stop herself. A piece of her would always be his, no matter the resolution.

“Never,” she whispered.

His hand squeezed back.

“I’m going to have to pull the skin together. That will be the most difficult part of the procedure,” the doctor said, needle in hand, poised to start.

Marcus grunted, a frown already twisting his features. “I know.”

It took the doctor ten minutes to stitch the wound, but time moved slowly.

When Dr. Grogg tied off the last of the thread, Marcus visibly relaxed. He had winced, but never once let out a cry of pain, nor showed signs of the past overtaking him. His brow smoothed and relief swept through Danni when she saw his clear, calm eyes.

She disentangled herself to show the doctor to the door. The man stopped in the hallway, his expression troubled. “I do not know exactly what your husband has been through, madam, but remember that the horrors he has seen do not leave a man. He carries them for a lifetime. Be kind and patient with him.”

Her chest tightened. “I know, Doctor.”

A soft smile played at the serious line of his mouth. “You are a very strong woman, my lady. I wish you and your husband the best. The road ahead will be long.” Danni quietly shut the door, hoping Marcus had not overheard. But Marcus’s tight features had softened and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. He was asleep.

Leaning against the door, Danni took a deep, shuddering breath. She desperately wanted to make everything right and everyone happy, especially Marcus. She could offer herself in marriage to him, bring her fortune to the Fleetwood title, and thereby resolve everyone’s problems.

Except her father, her fiancé Lord Rathbourne, and her own hesitations stopped her. Even the doctor, a virtual stranger, had warned her. Life with Marcus would not be the happy fairy tale she’d always dreamed for herself. Was she willing to marry him, knowing she may not have the strength to drive his demons away?

She desperately needed rest. She stared at the large, empty spot beside Marcus in the bed, hesitating to put them both in tempting circumstances. Exhaustion won out. She collapsed into the soft, silken sheets.

Marcus startled awake. He sat up with shock at the sound of the closing door. The stitches in his side shot hot fire across his torso. Despair tore from his throat before he lay back on the pillow. The physical pain from the small wound brought a deluge of memories, of injuries much worse. He felt himself descending to the pit of hell.

Warmth and softness suddenly enveloped his wrist. He was dimly aware of a cool caress against his cheek as he fought to calm himself. Danni’s face emerged at the edge of his vision, twisted with concern. Her voice smoothed his tormented mind. He gasped a deep, relaxing breath, feeling the darkness and panic fade. He nuzzled his face into her soft palm as she stroked his brow. Her presence made his life bearable.

“I’m better.”

A smile budded on her lips, twisting his heart.
God, he loved her.

“I’m sorry the door woke you, Marcus. A maid just delivered a tray.”

He nodded his head, spying the food on a nearby table. Delicious smells wafted towards him and tightened his stomach.

“How long was I asleep?”

“It’s morning. Here.” She offered him a piece of toast with jam. Gingerly, Marcus sat up, accepting the food. He swallowed it in three bites and reached for another.

“Is the wound causing you discomfort?”

He chuckled softly. “I would be worried if it didn’t, little one.”

She grimaced. “I am concerned about both your welfare and your poor joke.”

Marcus smiled up at her. Had he ever smiled so much in his life? How could such a woman want him? Want to
be
with
him. Despite all his scars and his haunted past, she cared. She truly cared.

“Did the doctor say anything?”

“Just to rest. I checked on Ginny and she’s fine. A night of sleep seems to have restored her, if the number of
I hate you
s I received while checking on her is any indication.”

Marcus chuckled, imagining the scene. He took an apple from the tray and consumed it in short order. A contemplative silence fell between them. Soft light illuminated the room and Danni’s pensive features. Marcus was certain he knew what was on her mind, but was just as reluctant to bring up the subject as she. He grabbed a boiled egg and downed it in two bites. Finally, a frustrated gust escaped her.

“Damn it,” she barked. A heartbeat passed before she faced him, caramel eyes burning wide with accusation. “Even understanding the situation with your sister, I can’t let you do this to Ginny, Marcus. I just can’t allow it.”

His heart plummeted. He knew this was coming. He’d wanted more time to enjoy the fantasy he’d created.

He avoided her gaze and let out a hefty sigh. “But I have no other choice, Danni.”

The eggs and fruit in his stomach curdled at the idea of turning over his baby sister to the Duke of Harwood. He would not condemn her to a lifetime of such misery. “I can’t let Caroline marry that man.”

Danni began to pace. “I know. I’ve heard all the rumors about him. To think he may be a murderer…There must be an alternative.”

Frustrated, he scrubbed his hands through his curls. “What would you have me do? You’re asking me to pick a stranger’s well-being over my sister’s.”

“Have you thought that you are not only asking Ginny and me to live with your choice, but Caroline as well?”

He stiffened. “What?”

Danni came to an abrupt halt, eyes narrowed. “I cannot believe your sister would be happy to learn you forced an innocent woman into marriage in order to save her. I’d be livid.”

He looked away. He hated to admit it, but it had never occurred to him to think about Caroline’s feelings. He’d known Caroline would be upset with him, especially after she’d confronted him over that gossip column, but he’d been too focused on his own predicament to think of her feelings at all.

A frustrated growl emitted from Danni. “I bet you haven’t even told her what’s going on.”

When he remained silent, he could hear Danni stomping to and fro. She suddenly seized his chin, forcing him to look at her. Startled, he could only blink as she ranted. “Damn it, Marcus! You can be so selfish and stubborn.” She released him and took a step back to cross her arms. “This is about your sister, so therefore your sister should be involved in the solution. I know you want to shield her from harm, but she has just as much right—no, even
more
of a right—to make decisions on this matter.”

“But it’s my fault,” he whispered, remembering that day in his father’s office.

She stomped in frustration. “I’m tired of you blaming yourself, Marcus. It’s no one’s fault but your father’s. He was a horrible man and I would happily flay him alive if it were still possible.”

And there was her bloodthirsty streak again, he thought grimly.

“Your father is dead,” she continued bluntly. “Dead, buried, and rotting in hell. I know it’s hard, but you need to let everything he did go. It’s over now and will never happen again.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when no words would come. Danni could not be right. It would mean everything he’d done for Caro was for nothing. He’d spent so many years isolating himself, he was not in the habit of thinking of others’ opinions and feelings.

But now that he stopped to think, he realized his actions, while they might successfully break the contract, would only serve to make everyone involved miserable. Ginny would be trapped in a marriage she didn’t want. Caroline would feel guilty for the rest of her life. And he would lose the love of his life. And Danni, how would she feel? Glaring at him for a final time, she picked up the empty food tray and headed to the door.

“Now, I want you to think long and hard about what I said, Marcus. I’m positive we can find a solution to this if we all put our heads together.”

Dimly, he nodded as she left.

Even as his mind spun, he couldn’t help but feel like a chastised child.

“Stupid man,” Danni muttered, carrying the tray past Ginny’s room and down the stairs. She barely acknowledged Mr. Pensly as she placed it on the bar and stormed from the inn. Fresh air would do wonders for her temper.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the courtyard, she kicked the dirt in frustration before putting her hands on her hips and drawing in several lungfuls of air. The country breeze was tinged with the crispness of spring and cool, refreshing rain. Early morning dampness hung in the air, sending a slight chill through her tattered day dress. She glanced at the mud-spattered hem of the blue garment and winced.

A longing to wear Marcus’s gift shot through her. She was glad she’d managed to hold on to the sack through yesterday’s events. She would have been so disappointed if she had lost it.

Oh, that dress…that night…

“Troubles, my lady?”

Danni started, not having noticed the servant approach. She was older than Danni and seemed out of place in this rough environment. She was elegant as well, her willowy frame full of quiet grace. Graying blond hair was gathered in a tight chignon at the nape of her neck. Inquisitive brown eyes set in an angular face examined Danni.

Danni hesitated to speak, but the woman’s motherly demeanor made her comfortable. She kicked the dirt again as she spoke, mindful of the farce they played as guests here.

“My husband is being an arse.”

A tinkling laugh filled the courtyard. Danni was surprised by its sophisticated quality.

“I see.” She smiled. “What has he done?”

“Behaved like a man.”

The woman chuckled deeply, clasping her hands behind her. “But you still love him?”

Danni stiffened. Did she love Marcus? He frustrated her. He was stubborn to a fault and self-consumed.

But he was also gentle with her and listened when she spoke. He demonstrated kindness and could be incredibly caring. He made her feel alive with a single, charming smile and his touch made her burn with desire.

He was a diamond in the rough. She knew he could be everything she ever wanted in a man and a husband, if she was willing to live with and help him fight his demons.

She gulped. Did she love Marcus? Then, with sudden blinding certainty, she whispered, “Yes, I love him.”

A dazzling smile shifted across the woman’s face. “That’s wonderful! Love in a marriage is so rare nowadays.”

Danni nodded her agreement. Her gaze shifted back to the inn. She loved him, but she was still hesitant. Could she dishonor her father for him? Could she humiliate the earl, who had been a kind and caring suitor? Could she risk her scandalous behavior damaging both their careers? And she still had to inform Marcus of her true identity. Another barrier. He would be heartbroken. He may even reject her for keeping such a secret. She could very well emerge from this muddle banned from society, ostracized by her family, and without the man she knew she truly loved.

“Is there something else?” the older woman asked, a frown marring her aristocratic features. Her soothing, comforting, almost motherly tone encouraged Danni to confide her fears.

“What if loving him makes others unhappy?”

The woman blinked before sighing in understanding. “It will be difficult, my dear. But I do not believe those who truly care about you would want you unhappy. You must follow your heart, and trust that those who love you will come to accept your choices. It just may take time.”

Her words eased Danni’s doubts. She moved towards the Dancing Dragon’s entrance. “Thank you. So very much. You have really helped me. I think I’ll go check on him now.”

“Of course. Please give Marcus my best.”

“Sur—” Danni froze, spinning back in confusion. She shouldn’t know Marcus’s name.

However, any confrontation Danni may have planned was dashed as her quick survey found the courtyard empty. Where could she have gone?

What a mysterious woman.

Shaking her head, she hurried back inside.

I
’ll bring Ginny home tomorrow,” Marcus announced the moment Danni entered the room.

She froze in the doorway, blinking at him, completely stunned. He learned that he loved to surprise her.

“W-what?”

He shifted his perch on the bed, somber lines framing his lips. “I said, tomorrow I’ll send Ginny home.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice was skeptical but tinged with hope. “Unmarried?”

He nodded, feeling a burden lift. He knew all was not fixed. They must return Ginny to her home, and somehow elicit her help to avoid legal consequences. Danni was right. He had already hurt too many pursuing this option, and more were sure to be added to the list. There had to be another way to nullify Caro’s betrothal. He was not his father and vowed he would never be.

“Oh, Marcus,” Danni cried, launching herself at him. He braced himself for the onslaught, an uncontrollable “ummhp” forced from his lungs. He shifted quickly, protecting his aching side from the weight of her body—the stab of the injury a small price to pay for her embrace. Her warm arms latched around his neck, and her soft body molded to his. A perfect fit.

He trembled, his hold on Danni tightening, as her soft words brushed over the pulse throbbing along his throat. “Thank you, Marcus. Everything will work out, I promise.”

He nodded, burying her face deeper into the curve of his neck, the silkiness of her braided hair catching on his stubbled cheek, and breathed deeply of roses. It had fast become his favorite scent.

For the first time in his life, a sense of peace swelled inside him. She made him hope that somehow all this would be resolved happily, and he found himself believing it would be if she said it was possible. He squeezed tighter, pulling her closer to him. If only she could stay here, with him. Forever. He knew she was the one for him. The love of his life.

But, with life’s typical cruelty, she was a woman who belonged to another man.

Shutting his eyes against a sting of tears, he drew away.

“Marcus?”

Avoiding her confused gaze in favor of the window, he considered his options. He was back where he had started—no money, no plan, and Caroline engaged to a monster. Now, to the list of his failures, he could add an inability to win the one woman he had allowed himself to love.

Once, he had hoped Caro would be grateful for his intervention, and that Ginny and he could achieve some sort of understanding and be content. Now no one would be happy.

Well, perhaps Ginny, he thought with a smirk.

Marcus stroked his fingers through his hair. “I’m glad Ginny will be free, but I’m right back where I started.”

She lifted his chin to look in his eyes. “Not entirely. I’m with you now. We will find a solution together.”

“No, Danni, I don’t get to keep you.”

Uncertainty flickered across her features. He could swear he could actually see her thinking.

Marcus was tired of his dark existence. Of the codicil. Of his memories. His stomach roiled at the thought of Danni with another. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to wake up beside her every day. He wanted to hear the slightest details of her day, to be her confidant and lover. To possess her completely. He’d waited so long for someone—hoped for someone he could love and trust.

Her features tightened. “But, I don’t know. I…I don’t love him.”

Blood rushed in his ears. She didn’t love the man. That meant, if she married him, she wouldn’t have the happy ending she fancied. Was she…

He could scarcely keep his hope at bay. “Do you plan to break it off?”

She was hesitant and nervous, rare emotions for her. She was usually confident and full of conviction.

“The arrangement is not yet official. My father asked me to accept, wants me to accept, but I have been delaying. My intended is a kind man, and has been giving me the time I need to think. A marriage to him would not be all I ever dreamed of, but I planned to say yes. Then you kidnapped me, and now…”

He sucked in a breath. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Did he have a chance? Could he convince her he was worthy? Could she overlook his surly disposition, his ugly mug, and his tendency to be dragged into the depths of dark nightmares for days on end?

Despite his thoughts, he whispered, “Choose me, little one. More than anything, I want you. I…I’d do anything to make you happy.”

A soft smile flitted across her eyes as she leaned into his caress. He couldn’t breathe. He could not believe what he read in her gaze.

“Marcus.”

He felt light-headed, blood pounding in his ears. “I love you,” he dared say. “I love you.”

Her eyes widened.

And then fear crashed over him. What would he do if she rejected him? Panicked, he pushed her away and stumbled to his feet, clutching the ache in his side as if to stop the fear in his heart.

She darted into his path, clearly surprised. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Away,” he croaked, trying to step around her.

Amusement tinged her features as she stepped forward, blocking his retreat to the door. “Why would you want to do that?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”

“Maybe.” Soft laughter shook her shoulders. “I never imagined that when a man professed his love to me, he’d then try to run away.”

“I just said something rather important, little one. Can you take the situation a little more seriously?”

Marcus crossed his arms, feeling ill. He avoided her eyes, fearing what he would see there. He desperately wanted her reply, but at the same time, he wished he could grasp his words from the air and make them disappear. She might be willing to exchange heated caresses, but he knew from experience that did not necessarily mean affection.

Oh God, why did I speak?

“Marcus.” Her hand reached towards his face. Eyes widening, he reeled back, his heart beating rapidly now for a different reason. Danni crowded closer to him, frowning. He stepped back. And again. Determination hardened her jaw. He halted, his back against the wall. He had nowhere to go. He gulped as her hand reached towards his face.

He braced against the touch. Braced for the rejection. Her fingers were cool and soft as they made contact with his cheek. They slowly traced the thin scar that split his brow. Instead of pulling away, she caught a fist of his shirt and brought his head down to her hushed whisper.

“You know, this scar here, the one that stops right before your eye?” she said as she stroked it.

He swallowed and nodded.

“It makes you look adorable.”

His eyes widened, stunned.

“It gives you a devilish look I can’t resist.”

He blinked, unable to believe his ears. She’d lost her mind. He wanted to pull away before he was lost forever. But he couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe.

“And this scar here”—she traced the worst one, the longest and deepest; her voice was laced with pain as she spoke—“the one that must have caused you such agony. You always try to hide it from me.”

She leaned up on her toes, softly brushing her lips against his ragged skin. He burned at the contact, held in place. “You should be proud to wear it,” she whispered, “because you saved your little sister.”

His world shifted, spinning. He’d spent his entire life shunned and cursed, called an ugly brute. But this small woman somehow saw him differently. To her, he wasn’t a beast, but a hero.

“And this one here?” she whispered, her voice heating his blood. “The one that angles across your chin?”

She traced it, the tip of her finger resting in the center of his lip. She brushed the small circle in the center until his skin throbbed. His nerves jumped, lightning rushing through his body. He strained under her touch, aching with the need to kiss her.

Her gaze fixed on his lower lip, passion darkening her eyes. “This scar is my favorite because it makes this little dimple in your lip when you smile. And your smile. Rare and wonderful.”

And then she leaned forward, up on her toes to press her mouth softly against the mark. Hesitantly, he palmed her hips, pulling her flush against him. A wave of need and wanting rumbled deep in his heart.

“I love you,” he murmured again, so much more certain than before. He would never want another. He’d find a way, some way, any way, to make her his.

She smiled against his lips, her voice clear and the words unmistakable. “And I love you.”

Relief and joy mixed with doubt. He didn’t understand how she could possibly care for him, want him, but he would not question it.

“Danni.” He grunted. His mouth captured hers, scorching, possessive. He traced her lips with his tongue, teasing and nipping the soft edges. Strong palms cupped her head, holding her close to receive his kiss, deepening, joining them. A gasp escaped, panting filled the air. Her body softened, pliant in his arms, despite the tightening of her nipples against his chest.

Her hands threaded in the curls at the base of his neck, fingers bit gently into his skin, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his groin. His heart pounded with the knowledge that she was willing to give herself to him, to make herself completely his.

Marcus groaned, crushed by the unwelcome thought that she could not be his, not yet. She was taken, and the possibility that, by taking what she offered, he would destroy her chance for a contented and peaceful life halted his hands.

He lifted her, placed her gently on the bed, separated from her warmth, and sat at her side. Feet on the floor. Firmly set in reality.

“Marcus?”

“We shouldn’t do this. Even if this other man is not right for you, you will find someone else. I cannot lay with you now and destroy your chance for a future marriage. I cannot be so selfish. I want you to be happy too much for that.”

“But I want this, Marcus. I want you. I want one night where we can pretend nothing outside this room exists. Pretend we can be whole and happy together.”

“I—” He shuddered, wanting to give in to her fantasy. “Are you absolutely certain? There will be no going back.”

“I know. Please,” she whispered. “Please lay with me.”

He hesitated for one more moment before finally giving in and reaching for her. Damn her father, her suitor, Caro, Ginny. Damn them all. He would grab this chance, and if this was only for the day, he would be content with that. Danni wanted him, was willing to give herself to him, and he would not reject her.

Kissing her deeply, hands shaking in fear she would stop him at any moment, Marcus fumbled with her stays until bare skin lay exposed. He smoothed his hands inside her dress, along the soft, taut lines of her ribs. Her heart pounded against his palms, echoing in his own.

He brushed aside the opening of her blouse, the soft nubs of her breasts heating his palms. With one warm finger, he traced the trail of her long dark braid over her shoulder and curving between her breasts, continuing along her hip, sweeping low between her legs. Blood rushed to his groin. Leaning forward, he trailed his mouth where the braid lay, stopping at the sensitive underside of her breast.

Delighting in the faint scent of her skin, he shifted to his knees, dipped kisses in the valley of her breasts, swirling his tongue in her belly button. The muscles quivered under his questing mouth. Her uneven breath was music to his ears.

Eager to give Danni her every wish, he pushed the shift past her hips. He kissed the small strip of skin above the fabric, as inch by painful inch the perfect triangle of dark curls was revealed. He groaned, his desire burning him up at the sight.

He had to have her. Shocks of pain from his hip did not stop him. Everything in him urging to take her. He shook with the strength of wanting her. To possess her.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to steady. This was for her. This was to show her she hadn’t been wrong in choosing him.

With deliberate slowness, he pulled the layers of cloth from her body.

She made no move to cover herself, lying proudly before him this time. His eyes caressed her, every mesmerizing curve, every shadowed place of her body. The heat inside him raged.

“Your hair,” he murmured, fingering the plait, slowly loosening the three ropes into a thick veil of glistening brown shadows.

She shook her head, the strands settling around her shoulders. Waves of hair fell around her. They shimmered in the sunlight streaming in from the small window, softly curled from their bindings. He caught a strand, twisted it between his fingers. “So soft.”

She smiled at him, her light eyes glowing with tenderness. He swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed by the gift she was giving him. “Danni.”

He caught her hips and she shuddered with the contact. Her hands stroked his sides and ribs. His blood raged higher whenever her caresses approached the length of him. Her body leaned forward, bracing herself against him, nails digging into his shirt, tugging eagerly. “Marcus…I want more.”

He glanced up, meeting her darkening gaze. Her eyes were filled with want. For him.

He gulped, realizing she wanted his shirt gone. He pulled back, playing nervously with the hem of his shirt. He suddenly felt like a virginal bride, struggling to control his anxiety. She’d been shocked at the sight of his body before, but what if she was now revolted?

Seeming to sense his concern, Danni pushed onto her elbows. She stayed his hand, her smile warm and accepting. “They will not disturb me, Marcus. They are a sign of your strength.”

He looked at her, unable to believe the words. He tugged his shirt over his head, carefully avoiding his injured side, and stripped from his trousers. Marcus gently pushed her back on the bed, positioning himself between her legs. Her light brown eyes flared with desire as he leaned over her, her dark hair spilling across the feather pillows. She was completely exposed for his exploration.

Her eyes flared as he cupped one of her breasts. He marveled at the fit of it in his hand, as if she’d been made to fit him. She gasped when he flicked his thumb across her taut nipple. Her arms were about him, hands moving over his skin, tracing ridges of ruined flesh and pressing hot kisses to the side of his neck. A thrill coursed through him as her tongue laved at his collarbone.