Captive of Sin

Shame choked her. She could hardly believe she’d launched herself at him like that. But he’d been so close, and she’d longed so keenly to feel his embrace. And for one doomed, misguided instant, she’d imagined he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Poor pathetic fool she was.

Slowly, Gideon looked up, as though reluctant to abandon his reflections. He must also be reluctant to face the woman who had forced herself on him.

She braced to confront anger or scorn, but his serious black gaze focused on her without a hint of condemnation. Or covetousness.

“Good evening, Lady Charis,” he said calmly.

She was heart-stoppingly aware this was the first time he’d used her real name. In spite of all her stern lectures to herself, she shivered with pleasure when that dark velvet voice said Charis.

“Good evening.” On unsteady legs, she inched farther into the room. She was torn by painful longing to be with him and a cowardly desire to flee.

Gideon’s eyes widened as she entered the circle of light cast by the candelabra, and he at last took in her appearance. Because she’d felt like she faced an executioner, pride prompted her to dress in her best. Or in his mother’s best. A wide blue silk ribbon fastened the filmy white gown under her breasts. With Dorcas’s help, she’d put her hair up in a loose mas

s, leaving strands to curl around her shoulders.

A flame lit Gideon’s dark gaze, kindling answering fire inside her. Familiar tension extended between them. A tension she’d learned in the most painful fashion not to trust.

How could he stare at her as if she took his breath away when he found her nearness unbearable? It was cruel.

She straightened, fighting the insidious yearning his presence invariably aroused, and spread her hands in apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was. My inheritance makes men greedy.” She should have long ago recognized Gideon was the exception to that rule.

“No matter.” He laid one gloved hand on the carved marble mantelpiece. The misleading flash of desire had vanished, and his expression was cool, uninvolved. “And while I admit it’s an unpleasant surprise to discover my adversaries are a marquess and his younger brother, I’d do little differently if I had the chance again.”

“I nearly told you the truth so many times.” Guilt was a sour taste in her mouth. What had seemed so imperative at the time now struck her as a childish, dangerous deception. Still, she tried to make him understand. “It wasn’t just fear of how you’d react to who I was. I liked being Sarah Watson. She had more freedom than Lady Charis Weston ever enjoyed.”

“Believe me, I understand the lure of freedom.” He bent his head in thought, then glanced up to focus unwaveringly on her. “You have my word I’ll do my best to keep Lady Charis at liberty too. Then in a few weeks, Lady Charis will have all the freedom she wants.”

The irony was Lady Charis wanted only to stay here with Gideon. She was miserably aware that once she reached twenty-one, he had no further reason to keep her at Penrhyn. The prospect of leaving tore her heart to bleeding pieces.

“If my stepbrothers don’t get me first.” Fear thickened her throat, turning her voice husky. She tangled her trembling hands in her filmy skirts. “I heard you send them away, but…”

“They’ll return. With full legal backing. I know.”

“Your generosity to a stranger might cost you dear.” Like a moth lured to a candle, she ventured closer. Not too close. She’d learned her lesson on that front. “You could go to prison for helping me.”

“Didn’t you hear Sir John? I’m a national hero.” His voice was caustic and his expression bleak. “I doubt I’ll be carted off to the clink. The public outcry would be deafening.”

“I still shouldn’t have involved you in this mess.”

He sent her an uncompromising look under his marked black brows. “I despise bullies, Charis. Your stepbrothers deserve to lose.”

She clenched her hands at her sides. “I can’t stand the thought of your being harmed,” she said fiercely. “If you come to disaster because of me, I’ll never forgive myself.”

His face contorted with sorrow, and he took a step toward her. “I’m not worth your pain.”

“Of course you are.” His constant self-abnegation infuriated her, made her ache with angry pity. He was so brave and strong and good, yet he seemed completely unaware of his true quality.

Impulsive, unstoppable words bubbled to the surface. Words she’d come close to saying so many times before. She spoke in a heated torrent before she thought to censor herself. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known. You’re magnificent. Unlike anyone else. You must know I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I’ve only come to love you more every day since.”

The headlong admission scorched the air from the room. Her heart slammed to a stop against her ribs. Her cheeks burned with shock and humiliation. She stood stock-still, as if her slightest movement might shatter her into a million pieces.

Dear heaven, what have I said? What have I done?

Hadn’t she learned her lesson that afternoon? Her awful, awful gaucheness made her want to vanish into the floor. She’d give every penny she possessed to take back what she’d just done. But the declaration had been made. It was too late to deny it, even if she could bring herself to speak such a lie.

She did love him. She always would. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t even bear to touch her. But nothing changed the ineluctable truth of what she’d said.