“You can’t possibly know that,” she said in a hollow voice.
In a swift move, he rolled her underneath him. Her eyes widened in surprise as he took her face between his hands. “Yes, I can. Because you’re mine, now. I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again,” he vowed.
Panic seemed to flare in her eyes. She struggled, trying to push him off. “Christian, let me up.”
He blinked, stunned by her reaction. “Clarissa—”
“Now!”
He rolled off her and sat on the edge of the bed. She grabbed her chemise and began wrestling it over her head. When he tried to help her, she batted his hands away.
Resisting the urge to swear, he reached for his breeches. Apparently, she was already regretting what they’d done. No doubt for myriad foolish reasons he would now have to deal with.
He stood and watched her fuss with the ties of herchemise. When she refused to meet his eyes, his heart sank. He had to throttle back his frustration. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”
She smoothed her chemise, took a deep breath, and raised her eyes. Their usual amber sparkle had disappeared, leaving her gaze flat and bleak. Unease rifled through him.
“I need to tell you something,” she said. “You won’t like it.”
He wanted to sit next to her, to take her in his arms. But her grim expression froze him in place.
“Say it,” he replied.
“I’ve lied to you, Christian. I didn’t want to, but I did. It was necessary.”
He clamped down on his flaring emotions. “About what? This?”
She nodded, looking miserable. “Partly. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I have to now. After this …” She gestured at the bed. “I needed you to help me find out what really happened at Badajoz. To help me clear Jeremy’s name. After you refused, I decided I had to do whatever it took to convince you to help. I thought if I could make you fall in love with me … well, then you would do what I needed you to.”
She finished in a rush. Her cheeks were stained a bright pink, and she looked both defiant and on the verge of tears.
Christian had felt such pain once in his life—when a French saber had sliced him open. But this was worse. A physical wound healed, but the wound she’d just inflicted probably never would.
Sucking in a harsh breath, he tried to stem the anger pulsing through his veins. As much as he wanted to explode at her, he couldn’t. That kind of reaction would scare her to death, and no matter how much she had earned it he wouldn’t do that to her.
After a few moments, he calmed his anger enough tospeak. “What just happened between us … was it all a ruse then? Was any of it real, Clarissa?”
She rubbed the corner of one eye, looking ashamed. “Of course it was real. That’s why I couldn’t go through with my stupid plan. You mean too much to me. I couldn’t lie to you any more than I already have.”
He stared at her, too baffled and angry to respond. What the hell did she want from him?
“Christian,” she said in a pleading voice, “you probably hate me now, and I can’t blame you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t hate you—”
“You should,” she interrupted. “If I were a better person, I would leave this house and never bother you again. But I can’t. Regardless of what I’ve done, I still need your help.”
She scrambled from the bed and grasped his arm. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself not to respond. But her simple touch burned through him. She was so beautiful, half naked and flushed from lovemaking. She had ripped his heart to shreds, and yet still he wanted her. Needed her.
He didn’t hate her. He hated himself for being such a fool. “What would you have me do?”
A faint hope dawned in her eyes. “Christian, you know people, especially soldiers who were at Badajoz and who might know the truth. Could you talk to them? If you uncovered what really happened, then Lieutenant-Colonel Harcourt would have to listen to me.”
He cursed inwardly. She asked for the one thing he couldn’t deliver.
“Please,” she begged when he didn’t respond. “If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Jeremy. Do it for a fellow officer who deserves help.”
Christian pulled away from her loose grip and reached for his shirt. “I can’t disobey a direct order. Don’t ask that of me.”
