Page 6 of The Rogue’s Offer

Chapter 2

Lust, unlike anything he’d ever felt before, slammed into Mathias’s chest as he struggled not to pull Ophelia into his arms. Brown eyes, large in her face, shimmered with gold flecks in the firelight. Desire had softened her features, and her full mouth was parted slightly. The tip of her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and Mathias swallowed the dark groan rumbling up in his throat.

The woman had no idea how tempting she looked at this precise moment. A small shudder rippled through her as he gripped her waist to steady her. He would enjoy making Ophelia see herself as the sensual creature she was. A vivid image of her lying beneath him with her lustrous chestnut hair spilling across her bare shoulders made his cock stir in his trousers.

In a split instant, his lust vanished as if he’d been doused in icy water. He stiffened and took a quick step back from her. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d just said he wasn’t a liar, and yet here he was pretending to be Charles. Worse, he’d even gone so far as to negotiate terms for her audacious proposition without divulging who he really was.

Self-loathing twisted his gut into a vicious knot. What in God’s name was he thinking to have let things go this far. The immediate answer that came to mind was a perfunctory one. He was doing what he’d done for years. He was protecting his brother from scandal. Mathias almost snorted with disgust. As the Earl of Thornbury, his brother was a scoundrel when it came to his dalliances, but even Charles would have arched his eyebrows in disapproval at Mathias’s behavior.

He cleared his throat as he studied the expression of desire on Ophelia’s face. Christ Jesus, he wanted to explore every inch of her right here and now. The images flying through his head made his muscles grow taut with a need he’d not experienced in a long time. It was a tension that would remain unassuaged because the minute he told her the truth she’d flee.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken for his brother. Despite the small gap in their ages, they’d both inherited the same dark hair and features of their father. The only difference was the color of their eyes. The fact they were easily mistaken for one another had proven helpful in his efforts to save Charles from female entrapment and a hellish marriage. But for the first time in his life he found himself wishing he really was the Earl of Thornbury. Mathias took two quick steps back from Ophelia.

“I’m afraid, my lady, we’ve both made a grievous error.” Mathias deliberately kept his voice devoid of emotion as he steadily met her gaze. Confusion swept across her face and his jaw tightened painfully with regret.

“An error?” She shook her head slightly.

“Regrettably, I am not the Earl of Thornbury.” The words hung in the air for a long moment as she stared at him in bewilderment.

“I don’t understand.”

“My brother holds the Thornbury title,” he said quietly. The dazed expression on her face made his gut twist painfully with regret. He was truly a bastard for having toyed with the woman. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation.

“You’re not…but you said—”

“No. You assumed I was the earl,” he grounded out between clenched teeth. Furious with himself for allowing things to become out of hand, his tone was harsher than he meant it to be.

Slowly, Ophelia’s look of confusion became one of mortified shock and horror. The fact he was responsible for her humiliation was not lost on him. His jaw tightened with self-disgust. He’d known Ophelia had mistaken him for Charles when she’d addressed him so formally on the dance floor, but he’d chosen not to correct her.

Over the years, he’d perfected his role of protecting his brother from women seeking nothing more than a title and access to Charles’s vast holdings. Unlike other titled peers whose fortunes had been decimated over many decades of excessive spending and poor investments, the Thornbury fortune was still intact. The Gilchrist family members possessed innate financial skills, and Mathias and Charles were no different. They’d made the Thornbury finances sound for many years to come.

It was one of the many reasons women vied for the Countess of Thornbury title. An image of Miriam flitted through his head. When the memory of her betrayal tried to secure a place in his thoughts, he discarded it. Instead, a new image was being seared in his memory as he saw the color drain from Ophelia’s face. Humiliation and shame caused her mouth to work slowly as she tried to speak. Her efforts deepened his self-loathing.

Even when Ophelia had made her outrageous proposal, he’d failed to have the decency to reveal his true identity. The idea he’d been looking out for Charles’s best interests didn’t excuse his demeaning the woman. Disgusted by his behavior, he tried to form a coherent and sincere apology in his head.

The problem was he was failing to come up with anything sufficient to make amends for his behavior. Perhaps the situation could be salvaged by returning her home to her without any ties. That might go a long way toward atoning for his sins. Silence stretched out between them as he considered how best to extend his broken olive branch. When she didn’t speak, he cleared his throat.

“Naturally, I understand you’ll choose not to go forward with our agreement, but I—”

“Not go—youbastard.” The sharp, brittle words made Mathias tense as he prepared himself for the outrage about to be inflicted on him. Her fury was slowly taking form, and even in her anger she was lovely. “You allowed me to humiliate myself—offer my body in exchange for something you cannot give.”

“No, I didn’t promise something I couldn’t give,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “As my brother’s business and estate manager. I have complete autonomy in managing his affairs and properties.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you would have returned Marymont to me?”

“I do not expect you to do so, but it is the truth.”

“The truth?” she exclaimed with bitterness. “The truth is that your brother displayed no moral compass when he stole Marymont from a drunken, old fool. But you sir, are worse. You are beyond contempt.”

Mathias went rigid. Despite knowing his original intent had been to protect his brother, he deserved Ophelia’s brutal condemnation. He was clearly worthy of her insult, but his brother was not. While Charles had many flaws, he was a good man at heart.

It was one of the reasons Mathias quietly investigated every new paramour his brother became involved with. But somewhere in the middle of his efforts to protect his brother he’d lost sight of everything except Ophelia. Angered by the realization and his responsibility in fortifying Ophelia’s poor opinion of Charles, he narrowed his gaze at her.

“I will not quarrel with your judgement of me, even though it wasn’t my intent to humiliate you. That said, I’m the wall that stands between my brother and any woman who seeks to become the next Countess of Thornbury through less than honorable means.”

At his cold reply, Ophelia’s head jerked backward as if he’d slapped her. Regret crashed through him. Christ Jesus, this wasn’t how to apologize to the woman. He’d simply added insult to injury. Intense dislike darkened her features as she glared at him.

“I have never had any designs on your brother or his title,” she bit out an in acerbic tone. “I have no intention of tying myself to any man ever again.”