“No,” he said dully.
Candlelight lit him like an actor on a stage. Of course an actor was what he was. Nothing was real. An hour ago, she’d gloried in her recklessness. Right now, she felt sick to the stomach with remorse.
The weight of hurt and betrayal left her crushed. “Why didn’t you steal the jewel that first night?”
When he glanced up, despair shadowed his blue eyes. She almost believed that he suffered, until she remembered how convincingly he lied. “I never planned to steal the jewel.”
“Then why are you here?”
He shrugged faintly, an unhappy version of his usual nonchalance. “You’ll hate me.”
Her lips tightened. Lord Neville’s attack and what Christopher—no, Richard—had done had left her sticky and sore. She desperately wanted a bath. She desperately wanted to return to the woman she’d been before she met this deceitful Adonis. “Who says I don’t hate you now?”
He flinched. Although the truth was that she was unsure what she felt. For days, she’d known he had an agenda. Yet she’d brought him here and let him have his way with her. Such a banal description for that unforgettable journey to the stars. Worse, she had a horrible suspicion that if he touched her with intent to seduce, she’d fall as readily as before.
Mind and body had always been at war over handsome Mr. Evans. Who wasn’t Mr. Evans at all, but a rich and rakish baronet. The stories in Mrs. Meacham’s London papers taunted her with the knowledge that this man moved in a world far beyond her humble circle.
He straightened upon the cushions, sitting there pale and serious as she’d rarely seen him. “When you told my representatives that even if you had the jewel, you’d never sell it to me, I decided to inveigle it away from you.”
It was her turn to flinch. “Seduce me, you mean?”
He flushed with shame. “I never intended to ruin you, but the moment I saw you I wanted you.”
Her tone descended to sarcasm. “Wonderful. At least you didn’t need to pretend enthusiasm.”
“Genevieve, I realize how bad this looks.” He stood and reached for her. His tone deepened into sincerity, but she’d learned to mistrust him. “You must know there’s more between us than my half-baked quest for the jewel.”
She backed away, staring at his hand as if it sported long jagged teeth. “I don’t know anything. Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t even know your name.”
“You can’t despise me more than I despise myself.” He drew himself to his full height. He’d never looked more magnificent, candlelight flickering across his lean, muscled torso and his shoulders straight and proud. The light gleamed on his hair and she realized that the dye faded to reveal shining gold.
It broke her heart to look at him, although she knew she’d invited this pain. She turned away and bent to scrabble through her petticoats. She flushed with humiliation to see their discarded clothing.
She faced him, hand tightly closed. “Neither of us deserves accolades.”
Swallowing hard, she struggled to forget those miraculous minutes when their bodies joined, how she’d felt beautiful and wanted and free. How she’d felt loved. If she thought about lying in his arms, she’d start to cry. Now she needed to be disdainful and strong.
Slowly she extended her hand and unfurled fingers stiff with the pressure of her grip. He’d ripped her heart out. Nothing mattered anymore. “Seduction worked.”
His eyes darkened at her bitter statement and a muscle flickered in his cheek. Then his gaze dropped to what she held. The object glittered as though it was alive. “It’s the jewel.”
“Of course it’s the jewel,” Genevieve snapped, then stopped. Screaming like a banshee wouldn’t convey the impression that she required. She intended Sir Richard to remember her as proud and queenly, not as a hysterical termagant. She wanted him to walk away with some corner of his heart regretting what he’d tossed away.
A likely outcome.
“You carried it with you.” His eyes glinted with admiration. “That’s why nobody found it.”
“At least your henchmen didn’t.”
His lips turned down with displeasure. “Genevieve, you have no reason to believe me—”
“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.”
He ignored her jibe, although his fists clenched at his sides. She was savagely glad to needle him, to repay some of the pain ripping her to shreds. “I’ll never lie to you again. I told you I was only responsible for the first break-in, and that’s the truth.”
“You wouldn’t know the truth if it kicked you in the teeth.” As she longed to do. She braced against swelling anger. Inside her there stirred a beast that burned to claw that sad, concerned expression from his face. Until his skin lay in tattered strips and she exposed the reality under the gorgeous mask.
Proud and queenly, Genevieve.