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her all my flaws?” He strutted to the high-backed floral couch and sank
into its fluffy cushions. “I don’t think so.”
    “But…”
    “Trent, you
never said what you’d like to drink.” Her mother’s question drew Catherine’s
focus back to him.
    “No thanks,
Mrs. Turnberry. If you don’t mind, I’d like a few moments alone with Catherine?”
He headed to the door without another word.
    Frowning,
Catherine glanced at the father for approval. He nodded, and she fixed her
stare on Trent’s back. Was he nervous about proposing? Or was he having second
thoughts? Maybe, if they were alone, he’d tell her what was bothering him. “Why
don’t we take a stroll out to the barn? Dad has a mare that is about to foal.
We can check on her.”
    “No, you
shouldn’t—” her mother exclaimed.
    “She’ll watch
where she steps,” her father interrupted.
    “Yes,” her
mother huffed. “But that dress wasn’t designed to be worn in a barn.”
    Trent held
out his hand for Catherine to precede him. She ignored her mother and led the
way to the front door.
    His hand
brushed her waist when he reached for the knob. He swung the door open, and the
fresh scent of pure male aroused her, and a shiver raced down her spine.
    “Thank you.”
She glanced at him and smiled, but his blank expression didn’t change.
    Clasping a
handful of fabric in each hand to lift her skirts off the ground, she strolled
across the front porch and down the steps. Had he changed his mind? Did he not
want to marry her anymore? Pain pierced her heart. Had she miscalculated and
fallen into the same trap as the girls at the theatre by letting her feelings
and attraction rule over logic?
    But he’d
appeared happy enough last night.
    The thud of
his boots crunched on the stone pathway, but she didn’t pause at the gate for
him to open it. Instead, she hit the latch and swept through, then swirled
around to hold it for him. Her gaze flew to his face. A black hat shadowed his
eyes—when had he put it on?—but she could still make out his stony expression
as he stomped through the gate. It was all the proof she needed to confirm her
suspicions. He wanted to end their relationship. A wave of dread crashed over
her and her legs wobbled. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but pride held them
in check.
    “Okay, we’re
outside where no one can hear us.” She planted her hands on her hips, and the
gate slammed shut. “Just say your piece, then get on your horse and go.”
    “Not just
yet.” He wrapped a hand around her upper arm and strode across the yard,
dragging her along in his wake. “We’ll talk in the barn.”
    “We don’t
need to.” She jerked her arm from his grasp and drew to a halt. “You can tell
me whatever you have to say right here.”
    Trent stopped
after a few steps and glanced back at the house. “Just because they can’t hear
us, doesn’t mean they can’t see us.”
    Disgusted at
his high-handed manner, she lifted her skirts and marched toward the open barn
doors. “Fine, but let’s make this short.”
    The earthy
scent in the barn should’ve squelched Trent’s desire, but it didn’t. He scanned
the area for the ladder leading to the loft and lengthened his stride to ease
the pressure growing in his cock. A bed of hay would be the perfect place to
show her just who she belonged to.
    His gaze fell
to the gentle sway of her hips and up the straight line of her spine. She didn’t
like his possessive attitude. But hell, what did the woman expect when she
threw herself in the arms of another man right in front of him?
    The subdued
lighting cast shadows across her soft features when she turned to face him. “So
spit it out. What’s on your mind?”
    Something
about her belligerence didn’t feel right. Her beautiful green eyes, which had
thrown daggers at him a moment ago, refused to meet his now. Her bottom lip
quivered slightly. She rubbed her hand over her neck and ruffled the lace on
the neckline of her dress.
    He