She felt as if a blow had been delivered to her midriff and had driven the breath from her lungs. “You,” she said hoarsely, “want me… to become your… mistress?”
“Good God, no!” Kyle took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone calm. “I don’t need a mistress any more than I need a wife. But I feel obliged to help you. In the States, you will have an opportunity to start over. You can build a new life for yourself there.”
Selena stared at Kyle in shock, her eyes wide in her pale face. Her hands crept up protectively to cover her stomach as she tried to marshal her scattered thoughts. It would have been better, she realized, if he had never announced their engagement, if he had left her to weather the scandal alone. She might be branded an outcast on the island, but at least here she would have her few close friends to support her. With them, she could endure the slights and slurs, the whispers and jeers. But not in a strange land, with a strange people. Without even the support a husband, however unwilling he might be, would offer.
“No,” she whispered.
“No? What do you mean, no?”
“I won’t go with you.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Miss Markham…Selena, perhaps you don’t understand. Governor Ramsay doesn’t intend to let my ship or crew leave the island unless he’s satisfied that you will be properly cared for. You’ll have to be the one to persuade him. You can say we’re to be married at my home in Natchez. You can use the excuse that my sisters want to be present for the ceremony. I’ve already explained that to the governor, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He’ll have to hear it from your own lips. That’s the only way he’ll allow the ceremony to be postponed.”
Slowly, Selena shook her head. “No,” she said again, quietly. “I won’t go with you. You aren’t required to marry me, but I won’t leave my home to live alone, among strangers.”
Kyle took a step toward her, clenching his hands. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I can’t leave here without the governor’s permission, and he won’t grant it unless you come with me!”
Selena raised her trembling chin. “I heard you, Captain. But I don’t think you heard me. I won’t go with you, not without benefit of clergy.”
“I won’t marry you! I can’t.”
Her eyes began to flash quietly. She would not beg him to wed her. Nor would she back down. “Why did you announce our engagement, then? Why couldn’t you have let me handle it? I wouldn’t have involved you.”
“I was saving your reputation!”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Selena broke the tense silence. “I think you should leave, Captain.”
Kyle ground his teeth. She was so lovely and demure in her lace-trimmed wrapper—cool and virginal and stunningly arousing. He could feel himself responding, a fact that only inflamed his anger. “I won’t leave until this is settled,” he returned darkly.
“Very well, I will speak to the governor tomorrow. Will that satisfy you?”
“And tell him what?”
“That we have decided we won’t suit, of course.”
“He won’t accept that!”
“I’m sorry, but that is the best I can do. I won’t go with you. Now, Captain… you may leave.”
When she tried to sweep past Kyle to show him the door, his strong hand spun her around. “Devil take it, I don’t want to marry you! Can’t you get that through your beautiful head?”
He seemed enormous and very near. His powerful body emanated
heat, matching the heat that was rising in her cheeks. “I don’t wish to marry you, either,” she returned with frozen civility. “The last thing I want is a barbarian for a husband!”
His eyes blazed with amber fire. “Barbarian? Lady,” he warned, his voice rumbling softly above her like distant thunder, “I haven’t begun to act the barbarian.”
His hold on her arm tightened. Slowly, with menacing deliberation, he backed her against the wall. His grip wasn’t overly painful, but the casual strength exerted in his fingers startled her.
“You don’t want to be my wife,” he said between his teeth, “I assure you.”
His other hand rose to grasp her chin, but Selena turned her face away, eluding capture. When his hard fingers at last closed over her jaw, she gasped in alarm. “Please…don’t hurt me.”
Kyle stared down at her. He hadn’t missed the flare of temper in her blue eyes, or the fright. “I am not,” he gritted through his teeth, “going to hurt you. I’ve never hurt a woman in my life. But I mean to convince you to reconsider your decision.”
His voice was hoarse with anger, his tone adamant. He wouldn’t let her or the governor or anyone else deny him the chance to still win his son. He had acted instinctively earlier that evening. Even though Selena had borne the slurs and accusations with a touching dignity that had earned his admiration, her distress had been almost palpable. Seeing her in such straits had been more than he could bear, arousing in him a sudden need to protect and comfort her. But his kindness couldn’t extend to actually marrying her. Not while Clay needed him....