Some type of internal honing instinct existed within Sebastian, tuned exclusively to the sight of his wife. A dizzying sense of déjà vu jolted him, seeing her across the ballroom floor with Sara standing at her side. It was a flashback to that first night, when he savagely sliced Ivy Kinley to ribbons for the perceived stain on his family's honor.

A crescendo of whispers and snippets of conversations bombarded him. His Aunt Rachel, in the midst of a small group of matrons, wore a faintly satisfied smile. Guilt assailed Sebastian as he weaved his way toward Ivy. Damnit. His failure to escort her to their first event as husband and wife would have gossip running amok of a rift between them. It looked bad. It was bad. Why had he left Ivy to face this alone?

Expressionless, she watched his approach and as he drew closer, she whispered in Sara’s ear. Sara shook her head, lips tight with disapproval. Ivy whispered again, her features never changing although the conversation became obviously heated. Finally, throwing her hands into the air in a gesture of frustration, Sara stalked away to take up a position at Alan’s side.

When Sebastian reached Ivy, he found his wife's eyes alit like twin pieces of blue-green coals. She had a right to be furious. He abandoned her and she had no idea why.

Gripping her arm before she flitted away, Sebastian gave what others would describe as the most mocking of bows then reeled her into his embrace as though she were a prize trout, hooked and landed.

"Good evening, Countess.”

Sebastian took advantage of Ivy’s astonishment by dropping a light kiss upon her slightly opened mouth.

Guests laughed in shocked delight. Ravenswood's public display of affection was deliciously scandalous.

"You're drunk,” Ivy hissed. The bitter-sweet fumes of bourbon filled the space between them. "Where have you been?”

Where have you been?

A splendid question, one Sebastian could answer in the physical sense. But it was difficult to say where he was mentally. His soul was shattered by the conversation overheard that morning. He was so angry; emotionally twisted into a very strange place.

Ivy’s emotions were equally high. Fury and embarrassment were a lethal combination in a woman. They should tread lightly, but Sebastian doubted this was possible for either of them.

"I spent the day at my clubs. Then an hour or so with my barrister, seeing to the responsibilities and duties required of an earl.” Sebastian stressed the term, “duties”, but Ivy failed to react. "I'm not entirely drunk, my dear, but I am bored with this conversation. I prefer to be engaged in other activities, if the truth is known.” He hated the almost petulant note his voice carried. "A pity I currently have only one viable option and must settle for it.”

Ivy’s form, displayed so enticingly in a champagne-hued ball gown, was subjected to his scorching appraisal. The fabric glittered, an intricate design of crystals and seed pearls sewn throughout the satin and the decadently low bodice displayed her assets to exquisite perfection. She had begun wearing the filigree butterfly every day; sometimes as a brooch, sometimes even as a hair ornament, fixed into her coiffure. Tonight, a gossamer piece of bronze ribbon threaded through the pin mechanism so it could be worn as a choker. It glittered against the pulse of her neck and Sebastian swallowed hard. She was so lush and seductive. His wife, oh, his beautiful, heartless wife managed to affect every one of his senses and it was infuriatingly magical. With an arm wrapped about her waist, he yanked her onto the ballroom floor where a waltz was just beginning.

Rather than struggle in his steel-like grip, Ivy allowed herself to be dragged along. She seemed to understand resisting would only create further scandal. Setting her focus somewhere over Sebastian's shoulder, she refused to meet his gaze as other couples joined them.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" His tone remained bland as he maneuvered her through the steps. It grated upon his nerves that she would not look at him.

"I’d be a great deal happier had you troubled yourself to escort me tonight.”

"I am unavailable to attend your every whim, madam.” Damn her for pointing out his transgressions, especially when he knew the full measure of each one. He should have been by her side. That was his duty. Just as hers was to provide him a son.

Ivy's gaze collided with his. With a choked sob, she said, "I cannot pretend to know your mind, Sebastian. Indeed, I find it difficult to understand what occurred from this morning, when you held me so tenderly, to this moment when you slice me to ribbons with your cruelty.” She attempted to pull away, but he jerked her back, their bodies molding in a manner so indecent, Ivy gasped out loud.

Their behavior was snagging the attention of others, whispers spreading like wildfire. Sara hovered on the edge of the floor, eyes wide with uneasy anger. Bentley, arms crossed, a frankly concerned frown on his handsome features, seemed to debate what course to take. Either step between the couple, risking even more gossip or allow the crisis to play out.

With a moan of desolation, Ivy drew back.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Ivy,” Sebastian ground out between clenched teeth. He hated himself for the tears welling in her aqua colored eyes. He hated causing her pain. He would let her go in a moment. As soon as he explained things. He promised... promised he would let her go.

But something had snapped inside Ivy. Something frightening. The heat of her skin nearly burned his palm. She trembled in his hands.

“You are truly unbelievable,” Ivy breathed. “Why should my humiliation come second to your embarrassment when I walk out on you, Sebastian?”

Several couples on the ballroom floor, attempting to eavesdrop before, now began to twirl in widening circles away from what appeared to be an impending explosion.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sebastian growled. “It is your duty -”

Ivy’s eyes flared with murderous intent.

"My duty? My duty! Don’t you lecture to me about duties. You forced me into this marriage. You made promises you never intended to keep. And now you speak of duty? Do you know what you can do, Ravenswood? You can go straight to hell, you... you bloody liar!"

A wooden heeled slipper stomped the top of his foot with enough force to dent the polished ebony boot. Sebastian lurched back, losing the grip on her arm.

In a spinning flurry of champagne colored satin, Ivy escaped, her stony glares spawning enough heat to send guests skittering every whichaway. Whispers of a fire-breathing countess trailed in her wake, the crowd parting as if sliced with a sword and knitting back together just as quickly.

Infuriating barricades hampered Sebastian’s pursuit. Those same guests who were so careful to steer clear of Ivy now crowded about him and even after shoving his way through a tangle of elbows and full skirts, Sebastian found himself drowning in a handful of debutantes.

Little birds of white surrounded him, all chirping high voices and dancing hands, intent on preventing the chase of his wife. His murderous stare cleaved a path through them, but one girl was determined to bar his way. Whenever Sebastian made to step around her, she glided in the same damn direction.

“We’ve not been introduced, my lord.” She gave a soft laugh as they performed this strange, silent dance three times. “But, perhaps now is not the opportune time to point out our familial connection.”

“Excuse me if I cannot linger.” Sebastian muttered, barely comprehending the young woman’s words. Peering over her head, he spied Ivy’s gold gown disappearing through a side door.

The blonde blockader smiled. “I have only recently arrived for the remainder of the season. It is expected my guardian shall arrange introductions but I hoped to circumvent matters.” Looking past him, the girl abruptly scowled, dipped an almost mocking curtsey and stepped aside. Sebastian saw a pretty brunette, a horrified expression etched on her face, barreling toward them. Upon reaching them, she clutched the blonde’s elbow in a severe grip, and a fiercely whispered conversation ensued.

Sebastian, with a sigh of thankfulness, brushed past them both.

A formidable gang of five matrons threw themselves into his path next, clinging with offers of refreshments and frivolous conversation. Gritting his teeth, he responded with terse politeness to varied questions regarding rainclouds in Kent and the heat in London, and did he think the lemonade required more sugar. Only when he nearly tossed a full glass of lemonade back at one determined old hen, muttering a foul curse, did they finally relent and allow him to pass.

Only one gauntlet remained.

Sara.

Sweet, calm Sara. Sara, armed with words that sliced like knives and that fierce temper she kept hidden beneath a beautiful, china doll exterior.

She declared him an ass of magnificent proportions; a heartless cad who did not deserve a treasure like Ivy Kinley. He was unfit to lick her boots; too lowly in nature to clean her chamber pot. The attack was scathing, the girl holding tight to his coat sleeve, forcing him to hear every word before letting him loose with a scowl of disgust. Half of the ballroom bore shocked witness to the set down and it was only by the grace of his friendship with Alan that Sebastian did not physically remove the petite woman from his path. Eventually, Lord Morgan came to his aid, pulling his daughter away from him with a murmur.

Snarling with frustration, Sebastian burst into the main gallery. He must find Ivy. Somehow, he must undo this unholy mess.

A hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

Gabriel’s brown eyes contained the chill of the moors. Alan stood nearby, fingers twitching no doubt with the desire to land a series of punishing blows to Sebastian’s chin.

"Let her go, my friend.” Alan gave his advice calmly, but the steel in his voice would have given any man reason to pause.

Sebastian rounded on them both. "Gabriel, if you wish to keep that hand, remove it. Now.”

Gabriel’s smile was hard and unfriendly, fingers tightening in direct contradiction to the warning. "You placed milady’s safety in my hands. I’m following your directive. Keeping her safe.”

"You are too angry to go after her,” Alan echoed, moving to block Sebastian’s path.

"I am warning you both.” His own friends now betrayed him? Rage had him stuttering ineffectively. “Goddamn it…this is insane.”

Gabriel’s chuckle contained no mirth. "I swore to protect her. An oath you laid before me. And I will honor it, Sebastian, even if it means protecting her from you.”

* * *

They kept Sebastian at the Graham ball for two hours in an effort to diffuse his anger. Only when he demonstrated full control of his emotions did the men accompany him home in Alan’s coach. Gabriel left Sebastian in Ravenswood Court’s front hall, his unmarred brow raised in unspoken warning.

The flames from the low fire revealed his bed was empty; the covers drawn back, unrumpled. Ivy thought to sleep elsewhere tonight, did she? Sebastian did not blame her. Throwing off the black cutaway coat, he loosened his cravat, tossing it to the side. Boots were yanked off, left in a careless heap, his shirt landing in a crumpled pile on the floor. On bare feet, wearing only trousers, he tried the connecting door between the suites and found it locked.

The rap he gave the door was as sharp as his irritation. "Ivy. Open this door.”

There was no response so he banged harder. Finally, a slight rustle could be heard on the other side. She was in there. She was in there and she wanted nothing to do with him. His voice vibrated harsher than his fists against the wood. "Open the damn door. Before I break it down.”

After a long silence, her weary voice muffled by the thickness of the oak, Ivy replied, "Go away.”

Stumped by her quiet resolution, Sebastian stared at the door, thinking what to do next.

It took a minute to recall the location of the key. For years, it sat in the drawer of the bedside if ever needed and pushing open the door to the countess’s suite of rooms, Sebastian felt a rush of satisfaction. On bare feet, he padded silently forward until he stood where the lamplight formed a pool of illumination.

Ivy sat in the middle of the bed, a pale, yellow counterpane clutched to her bosom. Huge and liquid, her eyes followed him, bottom lip catching between her teeth when Sebastian held out the key, dangled it, then dropped it into his trouser pocket. She did not appear surprised or even alarmed that he gained entry with such ease. She seemed to expect it.

Crossing his arms, Sebastian prepared for the battle to come, and despite his previous anger, he was relatively calm. The evening was a disaster, but one of his own making. He possessed an unfortunate tendency to react in the worst possible manner with Ivy, each incident only pushing her further away from him. Eventually, she would be so alienated as to be unreachable, and that reality was destroying him. He did not know what to do to make things better. He’d made the Devil’s bargain when promising her that it was possible to wait until she loved him again.

In the weeks since their marriage, he had not succeeded in changing Ivy’s heart. This failure, his failure, was slowly killing him.

* * *

Ivy turned up the bedside lamp at the sound of the key in the lock. She watched in grim resolution as the door swung open and Sebastian prowled into the room. He waggled that key at her and dropped it in his pocket, mocking any effort to keep him locked out.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Ivy clutched them hard. Nearly three hours had passed since she fled from the Graham's ball. Where had Sebastian been? He wore only trousers, the muscles lining his ribs flexed with each deep breath. Seeing the tic in his jaw, and the way it clenched, Ivy knew it was only by the thinnest of threads he kept himself from snatching her up and shaking her.

From forehead to chin, Sebastian rubbed his face. "Never lock a door to me again, Ivy. Ever.” His tone was blanketed in restrained composure.

“It did little good, obviously.”

"Come to bed. My bed. Where you belong.”

Her eyes narrowed. "You cannot be serious.”

"It would be unwise to doubt my sincerity at the moment.”

Ivy’s teeth hurt from being clenched so hard. She shook her head. "If you think I shall jump at the snap of your fingers, you are a bloody fool. And I repeat my words directing you to go straight to hell.” What motivated her husband to such irrational behavior was a mystery, one sure to bewilder her for many nights to come.

Sebastian’s smile was faint, as if suddenly amused despite everything. "You also called me a liar. No one has ever said that to my face and lived to tell the tale.”

Ivy stared straight ahead. "Should you wish to call me out for the insult, I’m waiting.”

“My intentions are quite different.”

“I do not know your intentions, my lord. However, if you meant to demonstrate your disregard for me, you succeeded. You deceived me, Ravenswood, when you forced me to this marriage.”

"I apologize for tonight.” A frown darkened his features. "I was not in my right mind.”

"Well, fortunately for the both of us, I'm in my right mind. I won't allow you to continue to use me.” Ivy flicked him an icy glare. "You may take your apology, shove it up your arse and go straight to the devil.”

"Ivy, I'm warning you.”

She laughed at him. "Really? Or you'll do what? Make me mind my tongue? Force me to your bed? You are my husband. You may claim your rights any time you bloody well please, but this does not mean I must be agreeable in my heart and mind. My body may allow it, but I vow I will not be willing.”

Sebastian appeared both distressed and furious at her words. Ivy hoped they struck at his heart, but she despised the truth hidden deep within her. While she hated him for his unexpected cruelty, and even if she submitted for the sake of duty, her body loved what he aroused in her.

Lashing out to grip her arm, Sebastian dragged her from the bed. Ivy did not resist.

"I can change your mind. You know I can,” he said in a hoarse whisper, nibbling at her lower lip with a soft persuasiveness. “And I don’t want to hurt you. Because we both know I can do that too.”

Ivy shrugged. She had already decided to slip away from herself. “Do as you wish, my lord.”

A confection of a nightgown, the fabric soft and billowy, flowed around her form. It was new, one of many Sebastian special ordered for her before leaving Beaumont. The extravagant parcel arrived at Ravenswood Court only the day before, and her squeal of delight at the unexpected gift pleased him. Simple ribbons held the pale, blush-hued garment together along the sides; should they come loose, the entire thing would fall to her feet. Damn her haste in grabbing the first one in the wardrobe. It would be the easiest to remove.

Sebastian’s fingers did not move to those bits of silk. Instead, he kissed her with growing insistence, and Ivy hated him when her eyes became wet with tears.

"I should have considered how my actions would affect you,” he murmured, hands cradling her face, his thumbs gently swiping away the dampness on her cheeks. “I did not think…”

"Whatever you are going to do, do it quickly and leave me be.”

Grim determination settled over his features and Ivy shuddered, abruptly realizing what she just gave him permission to do. He would not allow her to detach herself, would not allow her to deny her own pleasure. Resignation froze her in place as he gently unplaited the braid of her hair until the shiny chestnut strands flowed over her shoulders. A wounded doe, she had placed herself at the feet of the wolf and dared him not to devour her.

His thumb brushed the curve of her jaw. "Shall I show you how sincere I am in my apology?”

Ivy arched to avoid contact, but it only made it easier for him to touch her. He cupped her breasts through the cloud of fabric, filling his hands with her flesh and like heated sugar, her insides melted. “You and your apologies be damned.” A moan, tiny and helpless, drowning in the back of her throat, revealed everything.

Sebastian smiled at the sound of it.

He abruptly spun her around, pulling her against him until his hips cradled her bottom and she was anchored in place. Keeping one arm locked around her waist, he swept the mass of hair off her neck while his other hand moved to her breast. Teasing her through the delicate cloth, he applied slight pressure to her nipple, pinching harder before those wicked fingers moved to torment the other.

Ivy lurched away, but Sebastian’s arm tightened, forcing her to feel every part of his muscled form and the rigid proof of his desire. Rocking against her, his hand drifted to the junction of her thighs, and then he was cupping her there. When he nuzzled her ear, Ivy quivered. She could resist him. She must resist him! But that seemed impossible when he ignited every nerve ending in her body.

Sebastian’s fingers moved away from her center, wandering up along her flanks. She gulped in relief that his hand was no longer between her legs until there was a slight tug on the ribbons. A flutter of fabric and the gown fell away as if commanded by unseen forces. Ivy braced herself, knowing what was to come, the sweet and savage wildness of it all as his hand slid over the silky skin of her stomach to nestle again at the apex of her thighs. His fingers delved into her heat, his other hand stroking her breast.

Between kisses to the slender column of her throat, Sebastian’s laugh contained a rueful softness. "Look down, Ivy. See my hands upon you? How you tremble...so violently…your little pants of breath, the heat of your skin. The way your pupils dilate when I touch you here…like this.” He pressed two fingers against the throbbing button of flesh and Ivy gasped. “Knowing how I affect you drives me crazy.” Running his tongue in a swirling pattern on the sensitive skin at the back of her neck elicited another whimper from her. “I am sorry for tonight, my love. How shall I prove it to you?”

"Be quick then leave me alone.” Ivy sagged against him. Blood rushed through her veins so hard and fast she felt faint. His mouth on her skin was an awful reminder of his power over her and the delight she found in it.

Glancing down, she immediately wished she had not. Against the creamy hue of her flesh, the darkness of his hands was hypnotic. "Please.” Her ability to resist was near a breaking point, the whisper a desperate plea. "Just do what you must…" She felt his smile as he nuzzled her.

"Oh, Ivy. My very heartbeat. It's not that simple. Not between us. Don't you realize this by now?" Spearing his fingers through the soft curls between her thighs, his mouth fastened on the nape of her neck. With just enough pressure to trigger pain, he bit her.

A thrill flashed straight to the center of Ivy’s soul.

Keeping a steady tempo with his fingers, his teeth repeatedly sank into her flesh in different places along the line of her shoulder and neck. The pain was almost too sharp, the pattern of nibbles and full mouth tastes of her skin always followed by a sweep of his tongue to soothe the sting.

The overload of stimulation was too much. Ivy came apart, intense pleasure leaving her on the point of collapse. Sebastian held her tight to prevent her from sinking to the floor in a puddle of satisfaction. The sensations coursing through her were too dangerous, too powerful, too much of everything to fully comprehend or absorb.

She was barely aware when he scooped her up. Carrying her to his room, he laid her diagonally across the huge bed, and he appeared to hover on the edge of indecision. Then slowly, Sebastian turned her on her stomach, gathering her hair off the nape of her neck. Weakened, confused, Ivy remained as he placed her, listening as he divested himself of his trousers. When his warm hands smoothed over her buttocks, a nervous jolt of awareness streaked through her. She tried to roll from the bed, but he quickly prevented any hope of escape.

"Shhh, little butterfly. Do not flutter about so. I swear there will be only pleasure. Trust me, sweet Ivy. God knows you’ve reason enough not to, but trust me in this. I won’t harm you…"

The words were dark whispers, his large hands roaming the twin mounds of her bottom. With exacting pressure, he pushed her shoulders until she was once again flat on her stomach then seizing her by the hips, he tugged her to the edge of the bed to stand between her legs. Ivy pressed her cheek against the coverlet, her arms tucked beneath her body until Sebastian gently dragged them high over her head.

“Stay,” he murmured, and Ivy did as he ordered, trembling, waiting, hating herself for the anticipation strumming through her veins.

She did not like this position, the helplessness of it. She did not like being unable to see what Sebastian intended to do. Still, she did not move, not even when his hand swept into the heat between her legs, causing her to moan in distressed delight. When two of his fingers pressed deep inside her, she choked back a cry and did as he commanded. She stayed.

This unfamiliar position was intoxicating. And confusing. Her body did not know whether to bear down on his hand and the firmness of the bed, or rise up to meet the slow plunging. Her hands twisted the coverlet as his fingers sank into her again and again, the sensation so different from when he stroked her to completion, when the focus centered on the tiny bit of flesh at the apex of her center. Those strong, clever fingers delved deep, drawing her moisture out, the unrelenting movements driving her closer to the edge of heaven. Her hips undulated with the pace he set.

"Are you ready for me, Ivy?" Sebastian murmured, tracing the outline of her spine with his tongue. From the nape of her neck to the hollow of her lower back, he blazed a trail of fire before his teeth raked over the twin globes of her buttocks. His fingers never stopped the relentless surging in and out and Ivy was unable to stop her body from mimicking the motion of his hand. “This is your duty, after all. To submit, to do as I bid you. Sweet love, you are so wet, so hot. You will not deny your responsibility to this. How can you when you need it as much as I?" His low voice contained an undeniable note of bitterness.

“Stop…” Ivy trembled uncontrollably, the sensations becoming too much to endure. She was going mad, insane, her skin coming loose from bones. Despite begging him to cease, her hips continued to rise and fall, her body writhing against his hand, clenching on his fingers in greedy demand. “Please....please...”

Sebastian ignored her, laughing softly. Hardly missing a beat, his fingers were replaced with the smooth fullness of his erection. The heat and width of his body, stretching her, only half-buried inside her and yet filling her so unequivocally, sent her soaring. He whispered a hoarse command, “Let me in,” impaling her until she opened to him completely.

His harsh groan of conquest echoed in the room and Ivy exploded with a shuddering cry, her flesh clamping around him when he thrust harder, burying himself to the hilt. A rushing wave of intense pleasure covered her. Disoriented, she could only gasp helplessly.

Sebastian let the sensations wash and ebb before gripping her hips with hard, needy hands. Lifting her, he placed her in the position he desired, on her hands and knees. Shaken by her powerful response, Ivy attempted to edge away only earn a cautionary slap to her rump. He bent over her, caging her with his body and preventing escape.

“Again.” The demand was a cajoling hiss against the nape of her neck. He nipped her ear and she writhed against him, her rounded bottom hitting the lower portion of his belly in a tentative rocking motion. Keeping one hand on her flank, Sebastian guided her, fisting a handful of her hair in the other, tangling his fingers almost painfully in it. Dominating her, mastering her, he plunged into her body as though she were specifically crafted for his lust.

Ivy welcomed it. Even as he pulled her hair until her face turned to his and their mouths sealed together. Even when he kissed her with brutal possessiveness, taking her like a stallion mounting a mare, the act and position a primal reminder she belonged to him. He would do to her as he pleased. And she allowed it.

Because she loved him. She had always loved him. She would always love him. Only him. She would love him until her heart stopped beating. Until the world and everything in it fell apart around them. The knowledge destroyed her. Inside, she wept as Sebastian pushed her with relentless authority to the glittering edge then tumbled over with her, at the end of his own endurance.

Their climaxes drained them both. His body sagged over hers as they sank into the mattress, melting into the bedclothes. His muscled chest pressed like a heavy weight against her back, but Ivy did not care if he crushed her. She was too lethargic to care, too fragile and emotionally bruised. Confused by her own emotions and feelings for this man, this man who trampled her so brutally and caressed her with such aching tenderness at the same time. What was wrong with her? Why did she allow him to do such wicked things and secretly thrill to have them done? How had he managed to corrupt her to the point she craved his touch even when he hurt her so terribly?

"I don't give a damn if you believe this is merely your duty,” Sebastian abruptly rolled to his back, pulling Ivy to him, his lips touching her temple in a fleeting caress. “I won't allow you to keep yourself from me.”

* * *

Ivy turned on her side, away from him, trembling. Even after that rocketing encounter, when it seemed he’d reached into her soul, she was icy as ever.

"What are you thinking?" Sebastian swallowed around the sharp pain in his throat. It devastated him that she would not bend. Why would she not allow him inside her heart?

"You said this is my duty.” She sounded sleepy and unexpectedly heartbroken.

He could not hide his bitterness. “Yes.”

"Is that all this is to you?"

“What is this to you, Ivy?” Silence fell between them until he rasped, "I overheard you with Sara.” She did not respond. Did his eavesdropping offend her? It’s my damned house…I will listen to any conversation I damn well please. "You think sharing my bed is a responsibility until you give me my heir.” His voice cracked with restrained vehemence. "Ivy, no matter how many sons you give me, one or a dozen, I will still want you. With every breath of my soul, I crave you. My hunger, my appetite for you, is insatiable. I suggest you accustom yourself to that fact.”

Rising to a half - sitting position, Ivy’s eyes flashed in the dim light. "What would you have me tell Sara? That Lord Bentley should have her before marriage?” She laughed softly at Sebastian’s frown. “The consequences for a woman are so much greater than a man can comprehend. If only it were a simple matter of indulging our desires without a care. Shall I advise her not to wait? Throw all caution to the wind? To take her chances and pray a child is not conceived before vows are exchanged? "

"You said this was a duty, to provide my children. I need more from you than a damned heir to my estates.” His words dripped with ice. "I want more than that.”

Ivy’s lower lip trembled. "This is my duty. I swore a vow before God, and I will honor it. Sebastian…how could I possibly tell Sara how this feels? That every time you touch me, I shatter. That I am turned to liquid, your kisses leave me weak, wanting more. When I feel most alive is in your arms. Should I tell her that sometimes my heart feels so full of emotion I believe it may burst? Do you think this will keep her from her beloved’s bed until they wed?" She choked as the confession tumbled out. “The scandal would ruin her and I adore her too much to wish my experiences upon her, to have the ton rip apart her soul with their viciousness. I know too well how it hurts.”

The reality of the truth, hearing it from Ivy’s lips, stung more than Sebastian ever imagined. Knowing she felt so deeply for him, even after his many abuses of her, twisted his gut. He’d done things, things impossible to undo. And it seemed he could not stop making the same mistakes.

It was unwise, returning to London so soon after their wedding. At Beaumont, matters were simplistic, their relationship becoming a passionate, sweet yearning neither could resist. But in this house, it was altogether different. Sebastian imagined he felt the ghost of Timothy Garrett lingering between them and his aunt’s thinly veiled censure coated the air like a poisoned fog. The heavy eyes of the ton watched their every move, reporting all with glee. It left him with a heightened sense of betrayal and an unfortunate tendency of overreacting. He was the very Devil, here in London.

Ivy was right. What else could she have said to Sara? What other advice was there to give? Sebastian felt sick. Good God, how could she abide him when he continued to torment her like this? He caused her such heartache. He truly was a monster.

"Is this why you abandoned me tonight?" Ivy asked quietly.

"Damnit, Ivy, I apologized.”

"Your apologies are used to bend me to your will. You do and say what you wish and pathetic creature that I am, I forgive you. And allow you to do far worse the next time. You proved your mastery over me. Congratulations.”

"Bloody hell, it's not like that." Sebastian slumped against the pillows, an arm resting across his forehead while he struggled to find the right words. "I want you in my bed because you wish it. I want you with me because you love me. Not because you believe it is your duty to be here. I want you, Ivy. All of you. I will not rest, damn it, I cannot rest until I have all of you. I’m going mad trying to find a way to make you mine.”

Ivy crumpled. Unable to keep from touching him, one small hand came to rest upon his chest, right on his heart and Sebastian covered it with his own, trapping her slender fingers.

For a long time, they lay in silence, each wrestling with despair. Just when he believed she must have fallen asleep, Ivy gave a deep sigh.

"Sebastian, don’t you understand?" she said, soft and drowsy with exhaustion. "I’ve always been yours.”