Hugh's parting words in London echoed in Ethan's head."What if she's the one?" he'd asked again."The irony would be that you've somehow found her, you actually get to keep her, and yet you intend to hurt her beyond forgiving."

But Ethanalready had hurt her, well before he'd ever met her. And the longer she was with him, the more likely it was that he'd hurt her again. It was simply his nature; he had no talent at pleasing others.

Perhaps Madeleine needed to better understand what he was truly like.

"What do you want to tell me?" Maddy asked, trying to hide her disappointment. She'd known this situation was too good to be true, and now MacCarrick looked as though he was plagued with second thoughts. When he began to speak, only to fall silent, she asked, "Did you pay off Toumard?"

"You owe him nothing," he replied in a cryptic tone.

She frowned. "Did you…kill him?"

"Aye, I plugged a bullet into his skull." His eyes flickered over her face for her reaction.

She sighed.A fierce protector returning from battle. When she nodded up at him, he seemed confounded that she wasn't running away.

"Damn it, lass, why do you keep looking at me like that? I doona care for it. And I just informed you that I bloody killed a man this morning."

Maybe MacCarrick wasn't having second thoughts—maybe he was merely feeling guilt for what he'd done. "I hope you don't feel bad about that. La Marais is a better place without Toumard in it. But we do need to get you out of the city. Do you think we can stay aboard the steamer before it departs tomorrow?"

He froze, then jerked his head back. "I will never figure you out. I ken that now. Because you'recrazed ."

She waved his comment away. "Did you offer to pay him?" she asked.

He said nothing.

"So you offered to pay him, and he refused. He never wanted money from me. He planned to put me to work like Berthé, didn't he?"

MacCarrick's eyes bored into hers, raw fury burning in their dark depths. His voice was seething when he said, "Aye, after he'd bedded you himself."

"I see." She felt a wave of revulsion. "Well, he didn't leave you much choice. If he refused your money and I left town, he'd just terrorize Bea and Corrine. What did you do to his men?"

"I broke their goddamned arms." Whatever he saw in her expression made him snap, "No' again! Stop lookin' at me that way—I've told you I doona like it."

"Yes, very well. But, again, we really have to get you out of here, and quickly." When a cab passed them, she gave an urgent whistle, but was roundly ignored. She muttered a curse; then suddenly her eyes went wide. "Oh, MacCarrick, what about your injury? You didn't pull the stitches open, did you?"

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, raking his fingers through his hair. "You're no'…you're just no' right in the head if this does no' bother you. You're ignoring warning flags about me because you want out of this hellhole so badly."

"As many times as I've seen death here, Toumard doesn't warrant even a passing thought."

"Toumard's far from the first man I've killed."

"I thought as much. I suspect you're involved in some kind of dangerous, secret occupation."

"Aye, and I would no' give it up—even when married."

Maddy studied his face. "This isn't about you feeling guilty, is it? You really are trying to get rid of me."

He said nothing.Deuce it, no!

She had the ring and the money and clothes. Toumard was taken care of. She had a future again. Why couldn't she just brush this off as a good cull while it lasted?

Because she wantedhim . She wanted more of his unpracticed smiles. She wanted more of what he'd given her just this morning—unimaginable pleasure.

"You are."Deny it…deny it! He remained silent. "Then just a suggestion. Do something truly horrible to scare me away. Do something a lot worse than killing a thug—known for maiming young women—in order to protect me and my friends. Now, I'm a big girl," she said with false bravado. "I can take it if you've changed your mind," she lied, planning to cry for days if he threw her over. "And obviously I've done something—"

"No, you have no'," he said quickly, forcefully.

"Then why did you pursue me so strongly last night, and now you can hardly look me in the eyes? Nothing has changed except that you got to know me better." She couldn't help it; her eyes began to water.

He ran his palm over the back of his neck. "Damn it, lass, every bloody thing I've learned about you I've liked. Maybe I've recognized that you could do better than me."

"What do you mean?"

As though the words were pulled from him, he grated, "When I left, Quin thought you might be…in a compromised situation."

"What do you mean by a 'compromised situation'?"

"He suspected things with you were no' as he'd thought them." MacCarrick's voice broke lower when he said, "Quin intended…to come marry you if I dinna."

Her lips parted. Was this what caused MacCarrick's hesitation? Did he think Quin was a better man than he was? Quinwas a good man, and she would've been proud to have him, but she'd never felt as drawn to Quin, whom she'd known all her life, as she did to this rough Highlander she barely knew.

"He was the one you wanted, so you could—"

"I don't want Quin," she interrupted in a quiet tone, meeting his gaze. "I want you."

He looked bewildered—as if she'd just struck him—and had to cough into his fist before he could speak. "Did you no' hear me? You can marry the man you sought."

"The one I sought before I metyou ." A cab finally rolled to a stop before them. "I've told you what I want, Scot. Now make a decision about me. But when you do, it must be final."

He opened the door, then paused, clutching the handle as though in a death grip.

She drew a breath before she said, "You can't leave, then come back for me in a month, and you can't throw me over in a few weeks—"

With a frustrated sound, he grabbed her by the waist. Tossing her inside, he growled, "Then get your arse into the cab."

Chapter Twenty-seven

Ethan stared at the ceiling of the train car, reeling from the magnitude of what he'd done.

The chit seemed determined to stick to him like glue. Because sheliked him. He'd admitted to murder, and she'd given him that adoring expression again.

Sometimes being with her reminded him of going hunting with Hugh. His brother was a master rifleman, so fast to aim and shoot that even Ethan, no slouch, found himself doing a double take, frowning. That's what he felt like with her. Always doing a double take. Always perplexed with her.

Ach, if he wasn't careful, he could get used to those looks she gave him.

And when she'd met him eye to eye and told him she'd chosen him over Quin? The excitement he'd felt from winning her was indescribable….

"I have to warn you," she said, then, "Trains have a tendency to make me very"—she yawned—"sleepy."

Within five minutes of their departure, her body slumped and her forehead hit his shoulder, but she jerked awake.

She did this several times until he said, "Just fall asleep. I will no' let anything happen to you."

She nodded. "Maybe I could just lie there…" She stared hungrily at his chest as if she was fantasizing sleeping against it.

"I thought you dinna like sleeping with another."

"Only in bed."

"Why?" Before he'd thought better of it, he'd patted his chest, coaxing her to lie there. When she curled up against him, his arm decided to slide around her. "Why only in bed?"

"When I broke my arm, I had to go to l'Hotel Dieu. A hospital for indigents. And they packed four girls into a cot." Her voice was getting softer. "Every night, these fevered girls would thrash about, hitting my arm again and again. If the floor hadn't been freezing and covered with filth, I would have slept there." When she fell silent, he jostled her a bit until she continued, "I had to wait there for days after I'd been cleared to leave."