Page 89 of The Rogue’s Countess

“And no doubt your explanation would have been a lie spoken as eloquently as all your other lies. You managed to fool me completely, Lord Chelmbee.” In a vicious movement, she flung the pages at him. The paper barely touched him as the sheets of ink-stained parchment fell and scattered on the floor. “You can lay no claim to being the injured party, my lord, when you simply prove the words I wrote.”

“I’ve warned you before to take care when you choose to address me in that manner, Phoebe,” he growled menacingly.

“And as I’ve said before, Lord Chelmbee, there’s nothing you could do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

The moment Phoebe addressed him by the name she’d given him in the Chronicles, she was certain she saw a look of anguish slash across his features. It was gone instantly as Gideon’s face darken with rage. Despite the blazing anger in his eyes, Phoebe didn’t experience any fear as he took a step forward to tower over her. Determined not to retreat from the blatant act of intimidation, she tilted her chin up in defiance. His gray eyes flashed with another emotion, but it was impossible to identify it.

“You seem to take pleasure in provoking me, Phoebe.”

“Then you need not worry about me doing so in the future,” she snapped as Phoebe made a decision she knew would send her plummeting to a dark place she’d never been before. “Because I intend to end this farce of a marriage.”

The speed with which Gideon grabbed her and tugged her into his chest caught her off-guard. Instantly, her body responded to his. Bergamot and leather scents mixed together to assault her senses, and she fought the urge to burrow herself into the heat of him. Instead, she struggled to free herself, but he easily restrained her. One arm wrapped around her waist, he held her fast against him, while his free hand cupped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Let me go, Gideon.” Her demand echoed with staccato precision as she pushed against his chest.

“No, Phoebe. I have no intention of making it that easy for you.”

“Making what easy for me?” she exclaimed as she braced her palms against his chest, trying to break free of his hold. As she stared into his gray eyes, a strange glint appeared in them, and alarm streaked through her as a cold smile tilted his lips.

“I have no intention of letting you go.” There was an odd note in his voice, almost as if he was experiencing regret. She quickly dismissed it as being her imagination as she saw the hard, inflexible resolution settling on his face.

“You cannot keep me here, Gideon. You signed a contract,” she gasped as she stared up at him in horror.

Dear God, no punishment handed down from on high could ever equal the torment of being condemned to remain at Chelmsford House. The prospect of watching Gideon parade one mistress after another in front of her made her stomach roil. The humiliation at the hands of the Marlborough Set would be little more than a bee sting compared to how her heart would break with each new liaison he engaged in.

“A contract I can easily have discarded in court. I prefer you experience the full depths of Lord Chelmbee’s depravity.”

“Why in God’s name would you want to do such a thing?” she whispered. At her question, Gideon’s mouth twisted in another mirthless smile.

“Surely you should accept nothing less based on your words of condemnation and scorn. It’s just the sort of behavior you expect from Lord Chelmbee. Since you despise me with such vehemence, I—”

“That’s not true,” she exclaimed in dismay as her heart stopped beating with a vicious twist at his words. Trying to breathe, she fought off the wave of panic threatening to take control of her body. “I don’t despise you, Gideon. I never could, I—”

“The words you wrote in that damn chapter, and all the ones preceding it, say otherwise, Madam Currer.” Phoebe flinched at his icy words then shook her head fiercely.

“I do not despise you, Gideon. I never have. I will not deny—”

“Haven’t you lied enough, Phoebe? I confess I am growing weary of your protests. I’m not a fool, my sweet.”

“I am not lying to you, Gideon. Please. You must believe me. I could never despise you.” A part of her demanded that she tell him how much she loved him, while the other half told her how he would use her confession against her.

“Very well, then you will have an opportunity to prove it as I intend to extract full payment for the title I gave you the day we married.”

“Full payment?” she whispered.

“You’re my wife, Phoebe. As such, you’ll fulfill every aspect of your wifely duties. Especially when it comes to sharing my bed. It will be quite a long time before I’m willing to leave your bed in search of another flower.”

“You told me you would never make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

Phoebe tried to breathe as she struggled to realize how fast her life was spinning out of control. Gideon hesitated for a short breath, and she thought she saw a look of pain slide across his features. Narrowing his gaze at her, he smiled coldly.

“Despite your low opinion of me, my sweet, I always honor my word. But do not think for one moment that I cannot bend you to my will,” he murmured.

The moment Gideon bent his head to brush his mouth across her lips, Phoebe drew in a deep breath of fear. Dear God, he meant to deliver her into heaven before tossing her back into the fires of hell. Every time he touched her, she was little more than clay in a potter’s hands. She had to find a way to escape. If she didn’t, she would be lost, and when that happened, he would know the true measure of her feelings, and he would use that against her as well.

“Please don’t do this, Gideon. It’s unworthy of you.” Her quiet plea went ignored as his voice became a wickedly sinful caress on her senses.

“Do you know how I’m certain you’ll surrender to me so easily, Phoebe? I know exactly what spot drives you wild with desire, my sweet. I know just how easy it is to make you whimper with delight. The way you writhe with pleasure every time my mouth teases that sensitive bud between your legs.”