Page 48 of A Kiss Of Lies

Would Christian force her if she refused him? She doubted it, but could she take the chance? In the dining room, he’d behaved like any nobleman stymied in his quest to get whatever it was he wanted. Most of the peerage did not understand the word “no.” They did not respect the word “no.”

For the first time since leaving York, she questioned her plan. She didn’t really know Christian Trent, the Earl of Markham. She’d only ever seen him from afar. She’d formed a picture of an honorable hero, but who was he really? He’d admitted that he’d been accused of rape. What if it was true?

She needed to speak with Sebastian. He would know the truth about the allegations, and he wouldn’t lie to her. Sebastian had sworn that Christian would never hurt her. Would he? She needed to understand the inexplicable change in Christian’s behavior. What could be the cause of his temper tantrum this evening?

If Sebastian thought it was safe to sail with Christian, she’d continue on with the voyage.

She jumped to her feet, the need to find Sebastian as soon as possible propelling her toward the door. With her hand on the latch she halted. Damn. She’d have to wait until Christian went to bed. Sarah leaned on the door and pressed her ear against it. She doubted the men would be too late. She’d seen Margarita skulking in the shadows and knew the housekeeper was waiting for Sebastian.

If Sarah wasn’t mistaken, Margarita held more than the position of housekeeper in Sebastian’s household. She was a beautiful woman. Her chocolate-colored skin, jet-black hair, and eyes the same emerald green as Christian’s gave her an exotic look. Every man looked at Margarita when she walked by.

You’d have to be blind not to catch the looks shared between master and servant. Sebastian’s lust-filled gaze followed Margarita’s every step, and her eyes sparkled with blazing desire in return.

Sarah envied the couple. No one else in the household seemed to mind. The affair would be frowned upon in England. Household staff were a vicious and jealous lot—one of the reasons she could not be a governess and Lord Markham’s paramour. It would cause too much talk, and anyone envious of her position could cause trouble. If they chose to dig into her past . . .

Hearing no sound from the corridor, she opened the door—and stifled a scream as she stepped directly into a solid mass of muscled heat.

Christian!

He caught her and held her lightly. He immediately dropped his hands from her person when she gave a distressed cry and tried to pull away.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. I’ve come to apologize for my boorish behavior this evening. If it’s any consolation, I feel like an idiot.”

She stepped back into her room, all senses wary of his sudden contrition.

“May I come in and explain?”

She was about to shake her head, but his eyes, reminding her of a lost puppy’s, tugged at her heart. Would it hurt her to listen?

“You may enter, but the door stays open.”

“Of course.” He entered her room and moved to the windows. He stood with his back to her, his hands moving nervously, his shoulders tense. Why didn’t he speak? What was he waiting for? Perhaps he was still trying to find an excuse?

“When I came back from town this afternoon, I was informed you were still down at the beach.”

Sarah barely managed to stop the “Oh, no!” from slipping out of her mouth. He’d seen her with Sebastian! Understanding dawned bright on her face. He turned at her muffled squeak of comprehension.

An elegant eyebrow rose. “Precisely! When I saw Sebastian walk naked—”

“Naked? He was never naked.” She felt heat flare in her face. “At least, not while I was present.”

“I didn’t know that. I—”

She finished for him. “Jumped to the wrong conclusion.” He nodded. “Your display of bad manners this evening was what, jealousy?” she asked incredulously.

Christian’s face flooded with color, and he looked sheepish. “I thought what we shared the other evening was special. When I thought you’d been with Sebastian I was shocked, hurt, and angry. I thought you did not feel the same about . . .”

Anger slid over her, hanging about her body for protection. “You obviously think very little of me if you thought I could share myself so readily with another man one night after allowing you into my bed.” The room reverberated with the harsh, accusatory tones of her voice. “Did you think my reluctance and terror at intimacy were all an act?”

He turned his face toward her and struggled to express himself. “Since my burns, no woman has willingly shared my bed. I have to pay them. Even then they usually have to fill themselves with alcohol in order to bear my touch. I could not—” He paused, and she could see his Adam’s apple moving. “I still cannot believe you welcomed me into your bed, especially given the circumstances.” His shoulders straightened and he stood tall. “I am telling you this to gain not your pity or forgiveness but your understanding.”

And just like that, he crushed her bitter anger into little pieces. She’d been focused on her hurt and her injuries, but it appeared his injuries ran just as deep. His scars hid deeper internal wounds that he kept hidden from the world. He was a proud man, and she realized what it had cost him to admit this to her.

She reached out and stroked the battle-injured face, the face she could very easily learn to love. “The fact that I gave myself to you and trusted you not to hurt me should have told you how much I value your friendship. Didn’t that make you wonder why a man like Sebastian would appeal to me?”

He ran a finger under his cravat. “I used to be a man like Sebastian. I know what appeals to him.”

“I’m talking about me.”

---