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“If you had sought me out at the beginning, you would have had more than two years until the marriage law went into effect. We would have had the time to get through all this garbage. You would have had time for the truth.”

“Sydney, I know that. I see that now. But it’s not what I did. Yes, I should have been braver. I should have been … truer. I should have taken a chance, arranged to meet with you early on. But I hesitated. I hesitated much too long. I see that. And by the time I acted, I was down to the wire.”

“Wire or not,” she said, refusing to give him an inch, as he’d known that she would, “you owed it to me to tell me the truth before you asked me to marry you. You owed that to me then, at the very least.”

“I know that. We’ve already been through that. But by then there was all you had told me about how you valued honesty.”

“So you should have been honest.”

“And what about Ryan and Peter? What about your distrust of men? You would have assumed right away that I was only after Trevor.”

She looked at him unwavering. “Telling me the truth was the right thing to do.”

“Yes. And then I would have lost you. You were not about to give a third man the benefit of the doubt. It was too big a risk. We were getting along so beautifully. I couldn’t stand to lose you when I’d only just found you. Are you going to deny that I would have lost you?”

“No. You’re right. At that time, I … didn’t know you well enough. I would have broken it off for a while, slowed things down between us. I would have needed more time to learn to trust you.”

“You would have needed longer than I could afford.”

She made a low sound. “Because of the Prince’s Marriage Law.”

“Yes.”

“You’re telling me you were trapped.” She spoke with disdain.

“No. I’m telling you that I knew what I wanted, at last. After all the years of being so sure I would never find it, find you. I wanted you. I wanted our child. And I wanted my inheritance, too. I made choices to give myself—and us—the best chance that we could both get what we wanted.”

“And you kept making choices. Kept making the same choice. To lie to me. Over and over and over again. Since our marriage, I can’t even count the times when you could have made a different choice.”

“I know it. And we’re back to the beginning again. Back to where I remind you that we have been so happy, and that telling you the truth would have destroyed our happiness, back to where I say I did what I did because I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

She stood up. And then, looking down at him, she said, “In making the choice to lie to me, you stole my choices. You treated me like a child, someone not fully responsible, someone unable to deal with the facts and make reasonable decisions based on all the available information. For generations, men did that to women, treated them as incompetent, as unable to face reality and make rational choices. Treated them as possessions rather than thinking human beings. I will not be treated as your possession, Rule, no matter how prized. Do you understand?”

He did understand. And at that point, there was nothing left for him but to admit the wrong he’d done her—done them both—and pay the price for it. “Yes. I understand.”

“It matters. That you believe in me. That you trust me. That you treat me as your equal.”

“And I see that,” he said. “I do.”

“But given the same set of circumstances, you would lie to me all over again—don’t you tell me that you wouldn’t.”

He wanted to deny it. But somehow, he couldn’t. And his denial wouldn’t matter anyway. He couldn’t undo what he’d done. What mattered now was that, no matter what the circumstances, he wouldn’t lie to her again. “I simply didn’t want to lose you. That’s all. I lied because I was certain the truth would cost me what we have together. And now, you can be assured I see that I made the wrong choice. I swear I’ll never lie to you again.” Her face was set against him. He shook his head. “But then, I look at you and I see that it doesn’t matter what I promise you. I see in your eyes that I’m going to lose you anyway.”

Her cold expression changed. She looked … puzzled. And also disbelieving. And then she actually rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re not going to lose me, Rule.”

He gaped at her, convinced he couldn’t have heard her right. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re not going to lose me. I would never leave you. I’m your wife and I love you more than my life. But I am not the least happy with you. And I’m not going to hide how I feel about this, or pretend to get past it when I’m not past it. You may end up wishing that I would go.”

“My God,” he said, hope rekindled, catching fire. “I would never wish for you to go. You have to know that.”

“We’ll see.”

He rose. His arms ached to reach for her. But her expression signaled all too clearly the reception he would get if he tried. “I want our marriage,” he said, and longed to give her words back to her. I love you more than my life. But it seemed wrong to speak of his love now, wrong and cheap. So instead, he said, “I want only you, always. That isn’t going to change, no matter what you do, no matter how angry you are at me.”

“We’ll see,” she said again. And for a moment, he saw the sadness in her eyes. Men had disappointed her before. And now he was just like the others.

Except he wasn’t. He refused to be.

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