Page 11 of The Beast's Ruined Bride (Rogues Gone Dirty 1)

Her throat went dry, but she did not fall into a panic this time. His gaze was still locked on hers, and it seemed to hold her in place. It kept her in the present and right here, right now...she was safe.

But for how long?

Her fingers clenched at the thought and he caught the hand that was pressed to his chest in one of his. “Lillian, love—it’s time you tell me what’s going on.”

She nodded, her gaze falling to watch the even rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand. She let the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm steady her. “It’s just...no one believes me.”

He stiffened. “Believe you about what?”

She lifted her eyes and forced the words out on a whisper. “I’ve been ruined.”

The flash of rage would have been terrifying if she’d thought for one second he was angry with her.

“Who?” He bit the one word out through clenched teeth.

Panic again, and this time it made words impossible. What if he didn’t believe her? Why should he when her own father didn’t?

Her heart began to trip over itself. What other choice did she have? He was her last chance. Her only hope. She opened her mouth to say the name but instead another truth came out. “I am with child.”

His grip on her hand tightened and his other hand came to her waist. She forgot how to breathe as his large palm settled on the curve of her belly. She hadn’t begun to show, but she was nearly certain she could feel the heat of his touch all the way to her core. It seared her skin and warmed her through until she was shifting on his lap once more in discomfort.

But this unsettling sensation wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even close. It was something hot and heavy that made her skin too sensitive and her breasts heavy. Her gown felt too tight as her nipples hardened and she clamped her thighs together to ease this new ache.

“Malcolm.” Dane’s growl had her head snapping up.

“What?” Good heavens, when had she become so breathless?

“Your fiancé,” he said, as though either of them needed reminding. Malcolm had been her fiancé, yes.

He’d also been Dane’s brother—or half-brother, she supposed. But after Dane left, Malcolm and his father pretended as though the bastard son had never existed.

She’d been the only one to mourn his presence, and even though she’d missed him she’d rejoiced that he’d escaped the earl’s torture.

“Malcolm got you with child and now he won’t take responsibility,” Dane said. The fury in his eyes was alarming and she shook her head quickly.

“No. No, Malcolm did nothing wrong.”

He’d done nothing right, either, but that was another matter entirely. It was no crime to be civil yet cold to one’s betrothed. And it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t been home that dreadful, fateful night.

“Tell me, Lillian.” His brows came down as he leaned in toward her. “Tell me who did this to you and I will make them pay.”

“The earl.” It came out as a whisper, but he heard. She knew he’d heard. She knew it in the way he stilled, she knew it in the way the fire in his eyes turned to ice.

She knew it in the way the look in his eyes promised death.

Her lips parted in shock. Never before had she seen such brutality, such unconcealed hatred.

“He forced you.” Again, it wasn’t a question.

A short nod was all he needed. He pulled her so close she could hardly breathe. Her breasts pressed against him and his hand moved to the back of her head, holding her to him as if he could make her a part of him, as though he could take her burdens and her fears upon himself by sheer proximity.

And heaven help her, she wanted him to. She’d always thought of herself as a self-sufficient young lady. She’d prided herself on her courage and her strength. But the way he was holding her, the relief was unbearable. She curled into him as he wrapped himself around her.

“I’ll make this right, love,” he said. “I’ll make him pay.”

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