His voice hardened to cold steel.“Yes, you do.”
Anger sparked to life in her chest, a welcome change from the bleak despair that had been creeping over her since she entered the dining room.“Don’t tell me how I feel.”
“Then don’t lie to me.”His voice sharpened.“Or is it yourself you’re lying to?Either way, it needs to stop.”
“Yes, let’s tell each other the truth, for once,” Lucy shot back, whipping around to glare at him.
His black eyes burned in his calm, expressionless face.His posture was loose and easy, deliberately casual, but Lucy’s gaze caught on his white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair.
The cracks in his composure gave Lucy hope.
“Fine,” he said, releasing the chair to cross his arms over his chest.“What do you want to know?”
She asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue for days.“Why did you push me away that night I came to find you at The Grand?”
He frowned, and she knew she’d surprised him.“That’s it?Not, why did you become The Gentle Rogue?Or even, why did you seduce me as the highwayman, even knowing you’d never go to bed with me as Thornecliff?”
If he thought that, he hadn’t been paying attention.“I know why you became The Gentle Rogue, and I’m fairly certain I know why he came to my window rather than Thornecliff.Answer the question, please.Truthfully.”
His jaw worked.“I was bored.”
Lucy shook her head.“Lie.Try again.”
“I wanted you to leave before you got hurt.”
Lucy’s heart thrummed.“Closer.But not quite.Once more?”
He shot to his feet and paced a few steps, one hand raking through his golden hair.“I wanted you to leave beforeIgot hurt, damn you.Are you satisfied?”
Melting, Lucy took a step toward him, only to freeze when he put up his hands to hold her off.His eyes were wild now, his color high, his chest heaving.No trace of the enigmatic, supercilious duke lingered.
“The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” Lucy told him, her throat tight.“You’ve been hurt enough.”
“My turn,” he said roughly, never taking his eyes off her face.“If I hadn’t recovered my memories, would you have gone through with it, all the way down the aisle?”
Lucy’s breath left her in a whoosh.She wanted to say she didn’t know, but that would have been a lie.Tilting her chin up, she said, “Yes.I would have married you.”
He stared for a suspended moment before barking out a humorless laugh.“Christ.Never say you’re a woman who can’t commit to a course of action.However daft.”
Lucy’s palms were cold and clammy, her breath shallow, but she didn’t falter.“I know our betrothal happened under…unusual circumstances.But there’s nothing daft about a woman wedding the man she loves.”
His handsome face twisted.Baring his teeth, he snarled, “Stop saying that.You don’t love me.”
“I do!”Lucy clasped her hands together tightly, wanting to run to him, to cling to him, to make him understand.But she sensed that the moment was balanced on the edge of a knife—one wrong move and there would be blood on the floor.
“You don’t,” he said, shaking his head.“I told you, I remembereverything.I remember whatyousaid last night, too.”
“Yes!”Lucy threw her hands up.“I told you I love you!”
“You said, ‘I love you, Gabriel,’” he said, low and intense.“You don’t love me.You lovehim.”
“Youarehim,” Lucy cried, fear twining about her heart.
He dipped his chin in a slow nod, as though she’d confirmed everything he believed.Shadows fell across his starkly beautiful features, darkening the hollows beneath his dramatic cheekbones and smudging purple bruises under his eyes.“I’m not that man anymore, Lucy.He doesn’t exist.I left him on a ship moored off the coast, chained up alone in the dark.You fell in love with a ghost.”
Frustration wrung tears from the corners of her eyes.She dashed them away with the side of her hand, impatient with herself.“I fell in love withyou, you stubborn jackass.With all the versions of you.I’ve fallen in love with you three separate times now!”
“You desired The Gentle Rogue.You loved Gabriel.But Thorne?Me?The real me…you hate.”
