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sense to love a man who had no real interest in her, yet here she was. When she’d been younger, Lucien had been exceedingly kind to her. He’d been the one to rescue her from her parents’ coach.
    Unwanted memories whispered at the corners of her heart, slicing her soul deep. Her parents lying broken and lifeless around her like marionettes with their strings cut. Their eyes, open yet seeing nothing, heads at awkward, unnatural angles. The coach on its side, massive splinters of wood embedded in bodies. People screaming. Then a burst of light as the coach door crashed open above her and she glimpsed a halo of fiery hair and warm hazel eyes. “Come now, sweetheart, reach for me. There’s a good girl. Take my hands, Horatia, and I’ll keep you safe.”
    Safe. It was all she’d ever wanted, and for a short time, he’d kept his promise. But when she’d ruined his proposal to a woman, he began to keep his distance. It only became worse when she’d had her come out two years ago. He’d taken one look at her when she’d entered Almack’s assembly rooms and strode away, leaving her feeling utterly alone in a ballroom of familiar faces. Where he’d been only distant before, he’d now become cold. Her heart was cursed. But she could dream about what might be, so long as he remained unmarried. It was pitiful that she had only her dreams to look forward to, and even worse to love and desire a man who would never truly see her.
    “Please leave.” She tugged at the back of her gown, exhausted.
    Her struggles didn’t escape his notice. “Having a bit of trouble?”
    Before she could protest he shut the door and rotated her so her back faced him, then proceeded to unlace her gown.
    She tried to pull away. If anyone found them there’d be the devil to pay. “You shouldn’t be in here, let alone helping me undress!”
    He swatted her bottom and she gasped, shocked yet aroused at the same time. “Do you want out of this gown or not?”
    She jerked free of him and he lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine! Sleep all night in that. I don’t care.”
    He was nearly to the door when she spoke. Her voice small, tentative and unsure. “Lucien.”
    He hesitated, hand at the doorknob.
    Slowly, she offered her back to him. It amazed her she could still trust him after what he’d done in the library.
    Lucien resumed his work of freeing her from the gown. She knew his reputation, knew he’d been with scores of women. While that bothered her, she couldn’t help but notice his fingers were clumsier than she expected.
    “Shouldn’t a rake be practiced at this sort of thing?”
    Lucien answered with a growl of irritation, his fingers tugging at the knotted laces.
    “Who trussed you up like this? These knots look to be the work of an expert seaman.” With a final tug the bodice hung free about her, then he loosened her stays. Horatia’s heart quickened as she crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding them. She’d been so focused on undressing she only now realized Lucien was in her bedchamber and she was half-naked. Never before had she been so vulnerable.
    A harsh breath hissed through his teeth. His hands moved up to her neck, falling on the grooves between her shoulders and throat. She repressed a shiver of fear and delight. Would he kiss her again? Would he dare do more than that? Her body and soul screamed for more, begged to be held by him.
    God, I am a glutton for punishment .
    Lucien cleared his throat and awkwardly stammered, “I’m… I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I was not myself.”
    Horatia’s heart thrashed. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the column of her throat, but his expression was unreadable.
    “You are forgiven.” She ought to have said she never wanted him to do something like that, but deep within her she knew she wanted him to lose control and kiss her like that again.
    If only he hadn’t been so cold, so ruthless when he kissed her, as though she