Chapters (32)
- Acknowledgments
- The Highland Guard
- Foreword
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Epilogue
- Author’s Note
- About Monica McCarty
Perhaps guessing her thoughts, his gaze heated for a moment before he answered. “Nay, but the first since my brother took me to a bordel when I was a youth. It was not an experience I wanted to repeat, and I made a vow.”
Joan didn’t understand. “Like a Templar?”
His mouth quirked. “The Templars were disbanded a couple of years ago. Nay, nothing so formal—and I haven’t been a monk. I just told myself that the next time I made love to a woman it would matter.”
It took her a moment for the import of his words to hit. She stared at him in horror. Good God, what had she done? She’d wronged him even more than she’d realized. It seemed a man like him existed after all. And she’d made a mockery of what should be held dear. “I’m sorry, Alex.”
He took her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “You misunderstand. I’m telling you this so that you understand the significance—so you see that it did matter. I want to marry you, and you would do me the greatest honor if you agree to be my wife.”
Words she’d thought she’d never hear spoken by the only man in the world she’d ever wanted to say them. Though she knew what her answer must be, she let herself hold on to the moment for just a little bit, knowing it would have to last forever.
Muteness was not the response Alex had hoped for. But he could see the indecision—he hoped it was indecision—warring in her eyes and told himself to be patient.
It was not rewarded.
“I’m sorry, Alex, I can’t.”
She held his gaze, pleading for understanding. But he couldn’t give it to her. He didn’t understand at all. It was clear she wanted him, but something was holding her back.
“Why can’t you?” An explanation occurred to him—one that made every muscle in his body flare. “Is there someone else?”
Her brow furrowed as if she were momentarily confused, but then a coy smile lifted one side of her mouth. “Isn’t there always someone else?”
But there wasn’t. He knew that, even if his jealousy had gotten the best of him for a minute. It was an act—he was certain of it—and he wasn’t going to let her push him away with it anymore.