Pure Princess, Bartered Bride (Bride On Approval 1) by Caitlin Crews

Author:Caitlin Crews [Crews, Caitlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Romance, Fiction, Forever Love, Adult, Bachelor, Single Woman, Sensual, Hearts Desire, Multicultural, Bride On Approval, Series, Multi-Author, Princess, Marriage of Convenience, Marriage Contract, Paper Marriage, Seduction
Publisher: Harlequin Presents
Published: 2010-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Only twenty-three back then, Gabrielle thought, and already so formidable. She frowned slightly when he stopped talking.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. She searched his hard face and imagined she saw something there—something that hinted at the pain he must have felt. Though it was entirely possible she was projecting—wanting him to have a softness somewhere that she could relate to, to make it easier for her. There was no visible sign of softness anywhere on the body he maintained at the level of a warrior’s physique. She swallowed, and continued. “Twenty-three is still very young. It must have been devastating to lose your parents like that.”

“You lost your mother, too, did you not?” he asked, his eyes dark as he looked at her. He was so forbidding, and yet she was not as terrified of him as she had been before. What was this new, strange spell that made her relax slightly around him? She had not the slightest doubt that he was even more dangerous now than he had been before—it was her damned body again, making decisions without consulting her brain. Her body was relaxed—it simply wanted him near. Her brain was far more conflicted.

“Yes,” she said finally, jerking her gaze away from his. Gabrielle remembered so few things about her mother—the caress of her hand against a cheek, the whisper of her fine gown against the floor as she walked, the faint memory of a sweet scent and a pretty smile. “But I was barely five. I have far fewer memories of her than I’d like. I imagine losing not one parent but both in your twenties must be much worse.”

A muscle tightened in his jaw and he shifted in his chair. His dark gray eyes became, if possible, even darker. Gabrielle felt the shift in the air around them—the way the sun suddenly seemed cold against her shoulders, the way her stomach clenched in reaction to it. To him. But the difference today was that his ferocity was not directed at her.

“It was a difficult time,” he said, his voice clipped. He frowned. “But the media frenzy which followed was far worse.” His lips thinned. “Such cowardly dogs! So many veiled suspicions—so much rumor and innuendo. As if the truth were not tragic enough.”

“That’s terrible,” Gabrielle murmured, careful to keep her voice quiet, soothing—because she had the feeling he would stop talking altogether if she interrupted him, and she was not entirely sure that if that happened he would not resume intimidating her as he had before. Why was she not more worried at the prospect? Or did she imagine that now that she knew exactly how dark and masterful he was, how he could devastate her—and how she would enjoy it—she would no longer be susceptible to him?

“In truth, there was a part of me that was relieved,” he said after a moment, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. “I am not proud of it. My parents were focused entirely on themselves. They were not caretakers.

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