Page 21 of The Rogue’s Countess

“Your presumption I would want anything to do with a philandering wastrel is the height of arrogance, Lord Chelmbee.” The moment she addressed him by the name she’d given him in the Chronicles, he stiffened. She smiled with triumph at having struck a blow to his pride. It was a small moment of victory. The anger vanished from his face as he laughed softly.

“I like this change in you, Phoebe. This new, fiery spirit of yours is certain to make the pleasure of five years ago pale in comparison to what’s to come.”

“You are an arrogant bastard to think I would welcome you into my bed.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said with a quiet laugh that made her heart skip a beat. It was as sinful and wicked a sound as his voice. “And I shall enjoy every minute of it, Phoebe.”

“I offered you no challenge.” Phoebe narrowed her gaze and glared at him with antipathy.

“Ah, but you did, my sweet. The moment you refused to leave my house, you threw down the gauntlet.”

“Then I hope you are prepared for disappointment and the taste of defeat,” she snapped fiercely as she fought to keep her breathing steady.

Gideon stretched out his hand to brush his fingers across her neck. Ever so slowly, he traced a path with his forefinger down across her breastbone to the valley between her breasts. Unable to control her reaction to his wicked caress, Phoebe gasped, and a tremor shook her body. Satisfaction settled on his features.

“We shall see, but I promise I shall be a benevolent conqueror. I will ensure your pleasure is equal to mine.”

There was a silky note of seduction in his voice that sent Phoebe’s heart skidding out of control. It reminded her of another moment in time when he had caressed her with a passion that had stirred her soul. Her mouth went dry as she saw the amused complacency on his face.

If she’d thought him a force to be reckoned with that night in the gardens, it was nothing compared to what she saw now. Everything about him shouted raw, masculine power. It emphasized how close to the precipice she was where he was concerned. If she didn’t take care, she would find herself surrendering to him without any resistance at all.

Once more, he dipped his head toward her, and this time his lips brushed lightly across hers. Fire streaked through her at the caress, and she barely managed to suppress her desire to kiss him back. He lifted his head and smiled down at her.

“I see we understand each other. This first skirmish is yours, Phoebe, but I shall win the war.” With one last touch of his fingers to her cheek, Gideon walked out of her room.

In a rush of movement, Phoebe closed and locked the door behind him. Drained from their battle of wills, Phoebe pressed her forehead against the wood. Dear God, what was she going to do? She should never have left Madame Sabine’s, and it was unlikely the dressmaker would take her back given Phoebe had already been replaced. Tomorrow morning she would begin searching advertisements in the London Times for a new position.

She didn’t know what she would say to Lady Wrotham as to why she was leaving. Telling the woman the truth was out of the question. The marchioness loved her son dearly, and Phoebe refused to hurt the woman by denouncing her son for the reprobate he was. No, she would have to think of something else.

Although she was certain she was still short of funds for the purchase of anything suitable, she could at least consider lowering her standards to escape her current situation. Phoebe rubbed her fingertips across her forehead and moved to sit down in the chair facing the fireplace. Her mind jumped from one chaotic thought to the next as she tried to collect herself. It had been one thing to believe she could conceal her connection to the Chronicles while living in the house of a man she’d mocked in her writings. But nothing had prepared her for tonight’s unexpected outcome.

If she’d known her lover of five years ago was the earl as well as Lady Wrotham’s son, she would never have accepted the position as secretary to the marchioness. Phoebe would have known better than to tempt fate to put herself in Gideon’s path again, even though she’d not known his name until tonight. Deep in her heart, she’d always known he had the potential to destroy her, and she’d not been wrong.

The Earl of Chelmsford was unrivaled when it came to breaking hearts. The absurdity of her situation was unlike anything she could have imagined, even when it came to writing the Currer Chronicles. Perhaps worst of all was the contempt in Gideon’s gray eyes when he’d accused her of using his mother to climb the social ladder.

Whatever he’d heard to make him believe she was a person of such low character, she didn’t care. It wasn’t true. Even if she had been what Gideon accused her of, his own behavior made him the last person in the world with any right to pass judgment. The disappointment she’d experienced earlier returned.

The stranger she’d given herself to in the shadows five years ago was nothing like the man who’d just left her room. The lover she remembered had been passionate, tender, gentle, and his offer to help her had been sincere. She’d been so tempted to tell him everything that night. Now she thanked the good Lord she had not.

The fire crackled and popped loudly, causing Phoebe to jump violently. Her heart racing, her fingers clutched at the ruffled trim that bordered the V-shaped neckline of her dress. She could still feel Gideon’s finger sliding down across her skin. It had reminded her of how his hands had caressed her that night in the garden.

Another loud snap pierced the silence as the flames sizzled around sap leaking out of a burning log. Hypnotized by the fire, Phoebe’s mind dragged her unwillingly into the past. For weeks and months, she had tried hard to forget what had happened between her and Gideon. She had failed miserably.

It had been impossible not to listen for the sound of his voice in the days and nights afterward wherever she’d gone. Even though she’d tried to pray she would never hear him speak again, it had been impossible not to pray that she would. After several months without hearing his voice, it had become apparent to her that they moved in different social circles.

Certain their paths would never cross again, Phoebe had resigned herself to the fact their meeting had been a single moment in time. It would never be repeated except in her dreams. As painful as the realization had been, she’d known it was for the best. If they had met again, she was positive what little self-respect she possessed would be lost entirely. Phoebe turned her head toward the bed, and she dragged in a deep breath.

Tonight they’d been adversaries, but it had not lessened her physical reaction to his presence. If anything, the sensations he’d aroused in her tonight had been even more potent than five years ago. Without even realizing it, Gideon had declared war on her senses the moment he’d greeted her in Lady Wrotham’s suite.

His blatant declaration that he intended to seduce her wasn’t anywhere near as alarming as the knowledge he would find it quite easy to do so. And there was one thing of which she had no doubt. If she succumbed to the fiery passion Gideon could arouse in her, it would eventually leave her heart burnt and scarred beyond recognition.

Chapter 6

The clatter of Xerxes’s hooves on the stable yard’s cobblestones brought Brown out of the stables as Gideon rode into the yard. He dismounted the stallion and patted the animal’s neck as he handed the reins off to his stablemaster. A small, wiry-built man, Brown had once been a jockey, and Gideon was convinced the man could talk to horses.

“Xerxes did well for you today, my lord?” At the question, Gideon grinned and nodded in the older man’s direction.

“He did. Please thank the new man for exercising this devil while I was away,” he said as he rubbed the horse’s jowl. I’m certain he would have been much more fractious if he’d not been exercised so well while I was gone.”