Page 58 of The Rogue’s Countess

“Because I knew it would only anger you, and then you would shut me out as you always do.”

The anger in her voice had evaporated, and the sigh that escaped her was soft with resignation. Lucien kissed her brow gently, then pulling her with him, he rolled onto his side to study her face. Constance averted her gaze, and his gut twisted so hard he almost cried out from the pain.

“I have never meant to shut you out, yâ sabāha.” Lucien stroked her cheek tenderly. “I only meant to protect you—keep you safe.”

“From what? Who? Yourself?”

Constance’s gaze met his, and the defeat in her hazel eyes made his heart slam into his chest with an almost paralyzing force. How could he have been so blind not to see what he had been doing to her? Constance had given him his life back, and yet in his efforts to protect her, he’d continued to keep her at a distance. When he didn’t answer her, Constance pulled away from him to lay on her back and stare up at the ceiling.

“Lucien, I love you,” she whispered, her gaze still fixed on the ceiling. “But trust and love are at the heart of a marriage. Without those two things, we’ll become like every other unhappy couple we know who envies our happiness.”

“What you ask of me, yâ sabāha is difficult.” Lucien inhaled a deep breath.

“But not impossible,” she said quietly with her gaze still focused overhead.

Lucien tightened his mouth in a grimace. How could he make her understand the extent to which the curse of madness in his family had dominated everything in his life since childhood?

“The Blakemore curse might be nothing more than a myth, Constance, but Oliver’s madness was very real. I cannot ignore that fact.”

“Have you ever raised a hand to Grandmama? Imogene? Jamie?” Constance snapped with renewed anger as she turned her head to meet his gaze. He jerked in surprise before irritation crashed through him.

“No,” he growled.

“Have you ever hit me?”

“If this is your way of baiting—”

“Not once, Lucien. Not once in all the time you’ve known me have you ever raised a hand to me. Even when you believed you were under the family curse, you only touched me in acts of passion or tenderness.” Her mouth thinned with determination as she narrowed her hazel eyes at him. “I’ve made you furious twice in the past hour, and yet you still haven’t raised a hand to me. What stopped you from striking out?”

Hesitation and indecision warred inside him as Constance held his gaze with a look of such love that it sucked the air out of his lungs. Lucien couldn’t deny what she’d said was true. From the moment they’d met, she’d aroused his anger on numerous occasions, but Lucien had never raised a hand to her. They’d been married for more than two years, and in that time, he’d lived between heaven and hell.

And he had been angry earlier. No, rage was a better word for how angry Constance had made him. When she’d ordered him to carry out a punishment that would take her from him, his anger had blinded him. But instead of hurting her, he’d kissed her. Lucien knew it had been a harsh, punishing kiss, but she’d responded with the same passion she always demonstrated where he was concerned.

From the first moment he found her in the library at Lyndham Keep, cataloging his antiquities, until now, he’d lived with the fear she might come to harm at his hand. Yet, in all that time, no matter how angry he was, he’d never hit her, even though there had been times when he’d thought it might have been possible, but something had always held him back. A warm, soft hand pressed into his chest as Constance rolled onto her side to face him.

“Even people who are as happy as we are, Lucien, still have the occasional disagreement. If there was a monster inside of you, it would have shown itself by now.” There was a pleading look in her hazel eyes that made him willing to give her whatever she asked of him. “Can’t you see you have nothing to fear, my love?”

“Of all the Rockwoods, yâ sabāha, I think you would be the last to admit to defeat in any battle.” Lucien smiled as a look of annoyance darkened her beautiful face. “And to ensure you’re victorious, I will no longer walk away from you when we have a disagreement. But God help me if my anger becomes a blinding rage.”

Constance’s face brightened with relief as she pushed him onto his back and kissed him. It was a sweet caress of tenderness, love, and a hint of passion. She lifted her head, and with a mischievous smile, eyed him provocatively.

“I think I shall make you angry more often if you intend to punish me in the same way you did moments ago.” Her features softened as her smile became sultry and seductive. With a quick movement, she straddled him. “What can Isis say to anger you now, my lord?”

With a shake of his head, Lucien smiled up at her as the core of her brushed against his already hard erection.

“At the moment, all I can think about is how to please the goddess, Isis, until she cries out my name.”

His wife’s smile became even more seductive as she lowered her head to kiss him again, and her body began to pleasure his with the same passion as she had the first night they’d met.

Chapter 16

Phoebe quietly closed the front door behind her and proceeded to remove her hat as she walked toward the stairs. Despite the relief she’d experienced at Mr. Meade’s success in changing out the chapter that eviscerated Gideon for the new one, she was drained of energy. Her visit with Constance had added to her listless state.

While her friend’s understanding and assistance were appreciated, the idea of writing three more chapters under the pretense of visiting Constance made her uneasy. Phoebe was uncertain whether it was because she didn’t want to write the chapters at all or the possibility someone other than Constance would discover the truth about P. Currer.

Phoebe was on the second step of the staircase when Gideon emerged from his library and called her name. She turned her head and watched him stride across the entryway floor toward her. The smile on his face made her heart skip a beat, and butterflies fluttered like mad in her stomach. Dear God, if he looked at her like this on a daily basis, she wasn’t sure she could hide how much she loved him.

And hiding her feelings was the only way to prevent the pain she would endure if he knew the truth. The last thing Phoebe wanted was Gideon’s pity for loving him when he didn’t reciprocate her love. It was understandable why he’d broken so many hearts. Everything about him was splendid.