Page 4 of The Rogue’s Offer

“And tell me, what is this unique quality you possess that makes you think I would be willing to trade a valuable piece of property for it,” he murmured with what she was certain was a sneer.

“I…I am incapable of passion,” she finished her stumbling statement in a rush.

This time it was the earl’s chance to stumble slightly. The awkwardness of the moment was highlighted by his incredulous expression. As the dance music ended with a resounding flourish he quickly guided her off the dance floor. His sensual mouth a hard, thin line, he firmly, yet discreetly, maneuvered her through the crowd out into a long hallway that ran the length of the ballroom itself.

Although the corridor wasn’t empty, it was significantly less crowded. To anyone else in the hall, his grip on her elbow no doubt appeared solicitous, but his firm grasp indicated he had no intention of letting her escape. He seemed completely certain as to where he was going, and for the second time in the space of minutes, she was too startled by his behavior to protest. The earl stopped at a door and opened it at the same time he glanced back at a couple who had passed them seconds before.

Satisfied the pair had not turned their heads, he none too gently pulled Ophelia into a darkened room. Firelight created soft shadows against the walls, and as he closed the door behind them, she heard the key turn in the lock. Trepidation spiraled through her, and she quickly put several feet between them before facing him. As he turned to face her, his gaze narrowed as he held up the key.

“To ensure we’re not interrupted,” he said tersely.

For some reason, she had expected him to be surprised, but he actually appeared angry. Arms folded over his chest, he pinned her with his mesmerizing gaze.

“I said a moment ago I was intrigued and then fascinated, Lady Havenstock. However I am now attempting to determine precisely what you expect to achieve with your confession.” The contempt in his voice sent a chill sliding through her, and Ophelia shook her head.

“It was not a confession, my lord,” she bit out in a crisp tone as she met his gaze steadily. “It is a fact. I am incapable of inciting passion in a man or feeling it myself.”

“I see,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion. “Do you seriously expect me to believe not one of your lovers since Havenstock has failed to arouse you?”

“I’ve not shared a bed with any man other than my husband.”

“None?” The earl snorted with disbelief. “Forgive me, Lady Havenstock, but I find it difficult to believe you’ve not had at least one lover since you became a widow.”

“I am not a liar.” Ophelia tilted her chin upward. She resented the insinuation that she was lying. If either of them was deserving of contempt, his disreputable behavior had earned him that distinction.

“Very well, let us put aside the question of your experience,” he said as he pinned his gaze on her as a collector might when assessing the value of an antique. “Explain why you believe yourself incapable of arousing a man to passion or experiencing pleasure.”

“Because my husband repeatedly stated I was cold and unfeeling in the performance of my wifely duties,” she said in a tight voice remembering George’s angry denouncements of her inability to arouse a man.

It had been horrible enough knowing her father had insisted she marry George simply because the viscount had agreed to cover her father’s outstanding debts. But knowing she was incapable of inspiring passion in her husband had made her avoid any liaisons in the ten years since George’s death.

“Good God,” the earl muttered beneath his breath a frown creasing his forehead as he studied her. Ophelia looked down to fiddle with the ostrich feathers of her fan.

“I realize my proposition is unusual, but your reputation is such that I thought you might…might find me a challenge,” she choked out as humiliation swept through her. “I have nothing else with which to barter for the return of my home.”

“Havenstock was clearly a fool,” the earl bit out as he slowly closed the distance between them.

The earl’s gaze was hot as it swept over her in a leisurely fashion. It was as if he were disrobing her in his mind, and the effect it had on her made her senses reel. Her heart racing, she forced herself not to look away from him as approached her. With each step he took toward her, Ophelia experienced the urge to take two back, but she held her ground.

The man was doing things to her senses that didn’t just alarm her—they made her long to possess the ability to entice and seduce him. The moment the thought flitted through her head, she struggled not to race toward the door. Dear Lord, what was she thinking? The earl halted inches away from her then tipped her chin upward with his finger so she was forced to look at him.

“Let me be the first to assure you, Ophelia, that you are more than capable of enchanting a man,” he said softly. “I’ve been captivated from the first moment I saw you this evening.”

Her name rolled off his lips as if it were an invitation to join him in sin. The silky note of seduction in his voice made Ophelia’s heart slam into her breast as he lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Fire singed her lips at the light caress, and the air left her lungs. A slight tremor shook through her as he lifted his head to study her face. Gold flecks glittered in his green eyes as the firelight cast half of his profile in relief, while shadows covered the opposite side of his features. The angelic impression she’d had of him earlier returned, but this time it was a dark angel she saw. Ophelia swallowed hard as she met his gaze.

“Am I to understand that you have decided to accept my proposition, my lord?”

“Perhaps,” he murmured. “I wonder if you’ve considered the ramifications of your decision.”

“If you’re suggesting I mean to trick you into returning Marymont to me, I have only my word that I shall honor our bargain.”

“It’s not a question as to whether you’ll honor any agreement between us. The question is how quickly you learn.”

“I don’t understand,” she said as she eyed him warily. “It sounds as though you are proposing an extended arrangement.”

“Do you think one night is sufficient payment for what must be a valuable piece of property given your willingness to offer yourself up to me so blatantly?”

The harsh note in his voice made Ophelia drag in a sharp breath. It was precisely what she’d thought. She shook her head as trepidation slid through her followed by a throb of excitement that made her blood race.