What do you think?
Rate this book


311 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1993

Left in Atlanta with her failing mother and her abusive father, Amelia learned quickly that being docile and obedient was the only way to escape the physical violence that began to accompany her father’s personality change.
Her father had suddenly become a money-hungry tyrant.
King didn’t speak as he rode past Amelia. He didn’t even look at her. The silent treatment had gone on for a week—the entire length of time Amelia and her father had been visiting. He contrived to ignore her completely, even when the family was all together in the evenings. No one else noticed, but Amelia did.
For a rural man, he had something of a reputation with city women of a certain sort.
King looked at her with cool disdain. He was used to women fawning over him.
She played the piano well, and she spoke a few simple words of French, but she had no real intellect and no backbone.
He did, too, usually ride him to the neighboring Valverde estate when he paid court to Miss Darcy.
Miss Darcy had been condescending almost to the point of rudeness, while clinging limpetlike to King.
“Alan should marry,” she returned curtly. “And Amelia is a lovely, sweet girl.” “A spineless jellyfish with no spunk and no grit,” he said shortly.
Amelia hesitated. She didn’t like the Valverde heiress, and the woman certainly didn’t like her.
At least Darcy didn’t manage to drain his resolve. He found her attractive and even desirable, but he wanted her only with his mind, not with his emotions.
Darcy’s gown, while it might have flattered a taller woman, made the short, dark Darcy look like an ice cream sundae. The woman was attractive but hardly a beauty. And expensive designer gowns made little difference.
“Can you see her on a horse?” King asked with cold sarcasm, shocking his mother even further. “She’s a chocolate box beauty with no spirit and even less imagination.”
“I have no affection for or interest in your guest,” he added coldly. “I came here to spend some time with Darcy, whom I shall most likely marry one day soon.”
He threw the cigar down with little appreciation for its age and cost and drew Darcy roughly against him. He noticed the flicker of her eyelids and her fixed smile, and he wanted to curse her. Darcy pretended to be enslaved by him, but her distaste of intimacy with him was all too visible.
He kissed her roughly and felt her hands go against his chest, pushing, almost at once.
He was sure that Alice would have come back to him, that she had truly loved him. She had panicked at the thought of being poor, that was all. She would have married him.
Alice had welcomed him into her bed time and time again, and he still woke sweating, remembering her quicksilver response.
He had mourned her deeply, just after her death. But over the years, the sting had faded somewhat. Not that he forgave Rodriguez. Oh, no.
Poor Amelia. Her life had certainly been no bed of roses. Quinn grieved for her. Only he knew the agonies she suffered and the danger she faced.
“Perhaps there is a reason.” “Even if that were the case, she is not my concern. I have no wish to saddle myself with a pretty little piece of fluff with no backbone.” With that curt remark, he went back to his own room.
This time they had a passenger. Miss Valverde had wrangled an invitation to lunch. She climbed in beside King and chatted to him animatedly until they arrived back at Latigo.
Without counting the cost, he flipped the cigar out into the dust and abruptly bent, dragging a shocked Darcy up to him. He kissed her with every indication of true passion for the benefit of the woman standing, shocked, in the doorway.
“I daresay your Miss Valverde has sufficient for us both,” she replied coolly. He arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Indeed she has. I appreciate spirit in animals and women.”
“She will be exactly what you require in a wife, Mr. Culhane. I knew that.”
You have a sweet mouth. But it was only curiosity. Nothing more. Not on my part.”
It would be to save Alan from what King had endured, from the humiliation of loving a woman who only wanted his bank account. It was no more than Amelia deserved, after all.
Amelia felt him with shame and degradation. Her eyes closed to shut out the sight of it. Her body felt torn and used, and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to die.
Here, as in every other way, a man was an animal, a brutal, unfeeling animal who took his pleasure and repaid a woman with pain and debasement.
“I will not marry you,” he said bluntly. “If this bit of seduction was planned toward that end, it has failed miserably. Nor will I allow Alan to marry you. If you attempt to lure him to a minister, I’ll tell him what you permitted me to do to you in sordid, glorious detail. Is that understood?”
King Culhane himself came to see me, to tell me that you blatantly offered yourself to him! Do you think any man will marry what he can have for the asking? Alan will never want you now! You have disgraced me! You have disgraced us all!”
All King had wanted was for Hartwell to know that Amelia couldn’t marry Alan, and why. He should never have done it.
“I have chosen a wife with my mind, not my heart. I will marry Darcy, when I marry.”
He would be honor-bound to marry her in such a case, and it was the last thing he wanted.
“You do not love her?” “Of course I do not love her,” King denied violently, averting his eyes with a cold laugh. “She is everything I detest most in a woman.”
“If you do not love her, to marry her would be an act without honor.”
Darcy would make him feel better, he told himself. Darcy would help him forget. She was going to be his wife. She might as well start being a comfort to him now.
But pray God, let her not be pregnant, he thought. That would lock them both into a prison from which there would be no escape.
“I’ll kill him,” King said coldly. “Do you think I can forget what he did to her?” Amelia had thought King was falling in love with her. Now she knew the truth. It was all a lie.
King was too furious to listen. All he could see was Alice’s poor body, cut to ribbons, mutilated.
King had gotten on his horse and ridden away without another word to anyone.
“How can I stay? King wants no part of me! If he had cared, he would never have let the capture of an outlaw destroy our wedding day like this. He did the right and honorable thing, I cannot expect him to pretend love where none exists.”/


