Page 5 of The Rogue’s Countess

He stared at her for a long moment, his gray eyes scrutinizing her in a way that made her avert her gaze. A warm hand stroked her cheek, and somewhere in her tumbled thoughts, she ached at the thought she would never feel alive again. The knowledge jolted painfully through her, and she closed her eyes to stave off tears of self-pity.

“And do you feel alive now?” The soft question made Phoebe draw in a deep breath as she met his gaze.

“Yes.” So alive that I shall never forget you. Her throat tightened as she remembered the reality she had to return to.

“I want to see you again.”

His soft words made Phoebe jump, and her heart stopped for a full beat before it resumed. For a fleeting moment, she almost said yes. She wanted to feel him touching her once more. She wanted to feel alive over and over again. Shame washed over Phoebe at the thought. In one swift stroke, she’d failed to save Lawrence as well as sacrificing her principles.

Where was Lawrence? He should have been here by now. Phoebe peered into the shadows of the garden path, willing her friend to appear. When he didn’t, she looked back at the stranger. An odd glint flashed in the silvery gray of his eyes as he lightly touched her cheek. A knot formed in her throat. How could her plan to help her dearest friend have gone so terribly wrong?

Chapter 2

“I want to see you again.”

Gideon ran his thumb across her lower lip. There was something fragile and vulnerable about her. It was an emotion he was certain she rarely showed to anyone. Hesitation swept across her beautiful features, and he thought she was about to say yes. Intense disappointment sailed through him when she shook her head vehemently.

“No. It’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” he said firmly as he caught the faint hint of another accent threading its way under her English accent. It was undefinable, but he ignored the thought. “Tell me why you won’t let me see you again. Are you married?”

The moment he asked the question, a voice in the back of his head clanged as loudly as the bells on a fire wagon. Gideon had made it a rule never to indulge in liaisons with married women. He’d restricted himself to widows and courtesans. Now, for the first time in his life, he was considering setting aside his principles to see this woman again. A powerful surge of emotion pumped its way through his blood and told him to do whatever it took not to let her go.

“Tell me.”

Instantly, she retreated a step at his softly spoken command. As she darted backward, Gideon quickly reached out and caught her arms in a gentle grasp to keep her from fleeing. A shudder rocked its way through her body and into his. Christ Jesus, she was terrified. He jerked away from her. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. Was her husband a brute? Is that why she kept looking behind her?

Shame darkened her face as she averted her gaze from him and nodded. Gideon’s heart sank as she confirmed the truth. He’d been desperately hoping she was a widow, even though instinct had told him otherwise. Gideon knew he should simply walk away, but he couldn’t. He caught her chin in his fingers and tipped her head upward.

“Does he beat you?” he demanded roughly. Surprise flared in her gaze as she stared into his eyes, then shook her head.

“I have learned not to give him any reason to do so,” she whispered. Again Gideon noted the muted rhythm of something foreign in her voice that made him wonder if English was her natural language. He dismissed the thought as he focused on her. She pulled free of his light hold of her chin and turned her head away. Fury flooded his limbs at the thought of someone hitting her. A man who hit a woman deserved to be beaten until they were one breath away from death.

“Please, you must let me go.”

“Let me help you.” For a split second, Gideon saw her waver as she debated his offer, then shook her head.

“You cannot,” she whispered.

“I don’t believe that.”

Frustration sailed through him as he watched several different emotions flash across her features. Confusion, dismay, shame, and fear. It was the fear that gnawed at his gut. Gently, he cupped her face and forced her to look at him once more. She stood frozen in front of him before she pulled away with a sharp movement. Gideon saw her swallow hard as if something had lodged in her throat.

“What happened….it was a mistake,” she whispered.

“You’re wrong.”

Although he spoke softly, there was a ferocity in his voice that made her draw in a sharp breath. She denied his statement with a shake of her head, but the anguish in her eyes convinced him that she’d experienced the same bewildering connection between them. Loud cries demanding he keep her from leaving echoed in Gideon’s head. He had no explanation for his reaction to her or why it was so imperative he should not allow her to leave.

Silence filled the space between them, and he released a harsh breath of frustration. She suddenly took a step back and extended her hand as her expression became polite yet distant. It was as if she’d crawled into a shell where no one could see anything except a woman of serene composure.

“I must go before…I trust the remainder of your evening will be an agreeable one.” There was an absurdity to her words that angered him.

“Damn it to hell,” he muttered as he caught her smaller hand in his. “At least tell me your name.”

“It’s best we remain strangers. What happened here was a moment of madness,” she said firmly, but he could see the despair engulfing her in spite of her matter-of-fact manner. In the shadows, her beautiful eyes were soft and luminous, and a grunt of frustration made him tighten his fingers on hers.

“And if we meet at some point in the future?”