If You Deceive - Cole Kresley (серии книг читать бесплатно txt) 📗

Chapter Twenty-five

Madeleine stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, touching his scar with her lips—not even seeming to mind.

Having never experienced this kind of gentle affection from a woman, he had no idea how to proceed with it. She seemed delighted by what had happened, humming as she strolled to thesalle de bain to freshen up and change into one of the previously tailored dresses.

When she returned, clad in her smart new clothes, with her shining hair braided atop her head, he found himself saying, "We'll go to the garret now. If you want to take something to your friends, we can put a couple of bottles of champagne on the tab."

"Really? For Bea and Corrine?"

"Aye." And that one gesture earned him an expression from her that could only be described asadoring— the way she'd regarded him that night in London. He pulled at his collar.

The overjoyed modiste had used her break to tally their bill, saving him time when paying. He thought Madeleine was going to faint when she sneaked a glance at the total. But he would have spent twenty times that if he'd known how he was to be rewarded.

As the girls wrapped the bottles of champagne and fitted them into a narrow carrying basket, Ethan told the modiste that he'd wire directions for shipping the rest of Madeleine's clothing once they finished tailoring them. Whatever was completed today, they should send to his hotel.

When he and Madeleine exited the shop and he offered her his arm, she took it without hesitation. On the street, passersby gave them openly quizzical glances. He knew they wondered what she was doing with him, which reminded him that he used to be handsome. Before, he would have been a fitting match for her. Instead, he was a man who had to spend money on a woman to get her attention.

Ethan was feeling something for her, some kind of appreciation for what had just happened between them, but that only disgusted him. He was like a starving wolf that had been fed a scrap and was happy to get it—a thirty-three-year-old man grateful to have his cock stroked. He ground his teeth, seething. He was never supposed to have ended up this way.

And her parents were to blame for everything.

Things used to be black and white. He was a man not bound by any fixed moral code; she was the daughter of two people who'd wronged him.

How could there possibly be any hesitation or second thoughts about what he was planning?

There wouldn't be. All he cared about was getting her beneath him enough times to work her from his system.

"Thank you for today," she said, smiling up at him. Was she pleased with him because he'd spent a fortune on her or because she'd enjoyed what had happened between them? Why did he even care?

"You're welcome," he said, for probably the first time in his life.

When they arrived by cab in La Marais and he helped her down, the streets were harried and chaotic once more. Madeline stood out here like a diamond in dust.

"Oh, look, there's Berthe!" she whispered. "The one who tripped me last night. Make sure she sees us."

He hid a frown. Did Madeleine want to be seenwith him ? Or did she only want to show off her new finery? Just when he'd decided on the latter, he felt a distinctly proprietary patting on his arse.

"Madeleine," he growled in warning, and she yanked her hand up.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I just couldn't resist."

Why was he oddly…flattered?

At her building, he followed Madeleine inside and to the stairwell. "Hold onto the rope," she said, taking the bottles and hastening ahead of him as though she could see in the dark.

As soon as the stair head groaned, Bea's door swung open, but it was Corrine who rushed out to meet them. "Toumard's men came by again," she said. "You have to get out of here, Maddy! They roughed up Bea—"

"What?" Madeleine cried. "Bea?"

Corrine nodded. "She wouldn't tell them where you'd gone, and then she had to go and spit in one's face. She'll be all right, but she's lying down now, resting."

The news of this threat made that feeling of protectiveness for Madeleine surge in him again. "Go check on Bea," Ethan told her. "Corrine will tell me what happened."

Once Madeleine hurried to Bea's room and softly closed the door behind her, Corrine said, "I see that look in your eyes. You really are going to take care of Maddy from now on."

He hesitated before giving her a quick nod. "Madeleine accepted my proposal."

Corrine sighed in relief.

"But I need to know some things about her past, and the lass is tight-lipped." When Corrine nodded ruefully, he asked, "How did she burn her arm?"

"Oh, that was in the fire of forty-seven. Her building went up like a wick, and she was trapped upstairs. She very nearly lost her arm and came close to losing her life."

If she had been eleven or twelve, she'd just been forced away from her home to move to a foreign city. Her father had just died….

"That's one of the reasons Maddy's so terrified of Toumard—his men love to break arms," she continued. "Maddy's been like a cat sidling round a boiling pot of porridge these last few weeks. Fit to break your heart."

The idea of her being afraid, day after day…

Toumard was as good as dead.

"Why does Madeleine no' live with her mother?"

Corrine lowered her voice. "Well, she doesn't like people to know this, but her mother's…dead."

"You canna be serious," he snapped. She nodded, and suddenly all Ethan could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. "Dead…"

All the time I've wasted hating, wanting to hurt someone—someone who didn't even exist any longer….

Corrine's hands twined. "Maddy's been an orphan for years. Her mother died when Maddy was fourteen."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anorphan ."

Ethan had thought he'd been hell-bound before. Now there was no doubt. He gave a bitter laugh. This must be a jest.

He'd deflowered a penniless waif. An orphan.

"She had friends in England," Ethan said. "When her mother died, she could have petitioned them for help, and they would gladly have given it."

"She'd been here for some time already. Living in La Marais makes you feel a bit…worthless, especially in the young. She was ashamed. The only reason she went after that man in England was because Bea and I wouldn't let it rest. We eventually got her to promise to try before she married Le Daex."

"Le Daex, the count?" he demanded. "Her mother didn't arrange that?"

"Yes, years ago. But after she died, Maddy ran away before the wedding. We only recently revived that cull with La Daex. But all it did was get Maddy in debt."

And put an unprotected young woman under Toumard's notice.

Ethan supposed he'd hoped Madeleine had been close to Sylvie, that they were two of a kind. Instead, Sylvie was dead, and Madeleine had suffered destitution for years by Ethan's hand, bearing the brunt of a revenge meant for another. She'd suffered alone.

And Ethan had planned to hurt her worse.

How could it be worse for her? He remembered the look on her face as she'd picked herself up in that tavern. How many times had she had to do just that over the last ten years here…?

Just walk away.

This information, taken with the way Madeleine had said his name like a bloody benediction—with that undisguised longing…Even I'm no' cruel enough to do anything more to her.

He briefly closed his eyes as he finally admitted the truth to himself. He had come here because hewanted Madeleine. The revenge aspect only allowed him to justify the idea of a man like him using a young innocent like her.

If you are no' bent on punishing her, then what right do you have to her?

None. None whatsoever.

He couldn't take her away to hurt her, and he sure as hell couldn't keep her. He'd fix her problem with the lender, then get out of her life. Hell, he could even send some money later.