He sent her a brooding look, but then his eyes narrowed, sweeping the bodice of her pale blue silk evening gown, which left a good deal of her neck and arms bare.

“Is that a new gown?”

Brynn stiffened as his probing gaze fixed on her breasts. “I trust you don’t object. Raven said I am badly in need of a new wardrobe if I am to fulfill the role expected of me as your countess. And you left before giving me any indication of how much I could spend-”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t object in the least. I won’t have my wife in rags.”

Brynn pressed her lips together, refraining from defending the former lamentable state of her attire.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” he asked when the awkward silence drew out.

“Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?”

She gave an uncomfortable shrug. Her new title and Raven’s sponsorship had afforded her entree into the glittering salons of the ton, but she didn’t like admitting to Lucian that she found the lavishness a bit overwhelming, or that in Cornwall she was accustomed to a much simpler life and far more humble trappings.

“Some of your friends are very agreeable,” she finally said. “Vanessa Sinclair, especially. But others…have been more judgmental. If it weren’t for Raven, I should have been at a grave loss this past week. I am supremely grateful to her for coming to my rescue when I found myself thrown into a lion’s pit.”

His lashes lowered, hooding his eyes. “I apologize for having to leave you so abruptly.”

“Your apology is hardly adequate,” Brynn said coolly. “You might have sent me word sometime during this past week, perhaps informed me of your whereabouts.”

“Davies knew where to find me.”

“How flattering. The servants know far more about your activities than does your wife.”

Lucian remained stonily silent, his expression inscrutable. Brynn dared to stare back at him, but her stance was one of false calmness. This man was far different from the enticing lover who had seduced her on their wedding night. She could find no trace of his celebrated charm or beguiling warmth. Instead he was cold, detached, distant. He had already given her ample cause for resentment, and absurdly his remoteness only wounded her further.

“Is your business concluded?” she forced herself to say in an emotionless tone.

His features hardened. “For the most part.”

“A pity. I won’t mind in the least if you take yourself off again.”

She had struck a nerve, she could see from the glittering glance he shot her. His sensual mouth tightened in a grim line, yet she wouldn’t back down. Their future dealings together depended on her resistance now. If she began by allowing herself to care when he came and went, she would have no hope whatever of keeping their relationship on safe ground.

Having scored a hit, though, she thought it wiser to make a dignified retreat. “You are evidently in a poor humor, and I am rather tired. I believe I will retire. If you wish, we can continue this discussion in the morning.”

“I think not,” he said softly.

She had started to turn away but his quiet retort brought her up short. She gave Lucian a sharp, questioning glance.

His eyes were as brilliant as sapphires and just as hard. “Go upstairs and prepare for bed. I will join you shortly.”

Brynn’s hands clenched into fists at his imperious order. “If you think I will welcome you into my bed after the way you treated me-”

“I don’t believe I require a welcome, sweeting,” he replied, his mouth curling in a humorless smile. “I am your husband, you will remember.”

“How could I forget?” she muttered bitterly before turning abruptly and leaving the room.

Alone, Lucian sat staring moodily into the golden depths of his suddenly tasteless brandy. He had not handled that at all well. He should have expected such belligerence from Brynn, but he’d been too occupied erecting his own defenses to be concerned with soothing her wounded pride.

He hadn’t been prepared for seeing her in the flesh. The instant she entered the room, his groin had tightened. All he could think about was having her, pulling her down with him before the hearth and possessing her body.

Bloody hell. He’d been hot to have her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but the heat he’d felt just now, the lust, was more dangerous, more compelling than mere attraction.

Lucian swore again under his breath. She was his wife, not his mistress. Once a man was wed, he wasn’t supposed to find his wife so enchanting, so incredibly bewitching. Or be filled with such a fierce longing to possess her.

It was going to be harder than he’d imagined to hold himself aloof, Lucian realized with a groan. Somehow, though, he would have to find the will to clamp down on his obsessive urges. His life had no room for wildfire passions raging out of control. He would have to harden his heart toward Brynn, or more appropriately, soften his loins.

Perhaps he was unwise even to press the issue just now. It might be more judicious to wait for her resentment to cool before insisting upon his marital rights. But then, that might take a great while. He still wanted a son. And he couldn’t shake the dark premonition that time was running out for him.

No, he couldn’t afford to wait, Lucian told himself.

Grimly he took another long swallow of brandy, needing the additional fortitude to face his beautiful wife and make love to her without losing himself in her powerful enchantment.

A bundle of angry nerves, Brynn sat at her dressing table while a sleepy Meg brushed her hair. They both jumped when Lucian spoke from behind them.

“That will be all,” he said, dismissing the maidservant. “I wish to be alone with my wife.”

He had come through the connecting door that linked their suites, Brynn realized. Any hope that Meg would shield her died a swift death as the girl dropped the brush and scurried from the room.

Alone with her husband, Brynn averted her gaze from his tall, lithe form. He wore a brocade dressing gown of midnight blue that accented the sapphire color of his eyes and proclaimed very clearly his intent to sleep with her.

She kept her back to him, refusing to look at him or even to acknowledge his presence. She could feel his gaze raking her through her concealing nightdress.

Brynn gave a start when she felt his hand lingeringly touch her hair. She hadn’t heard his soft footfall over the heavy beating of her heart.

“What do you want?” she demanded, stiffening and pulling away.

“I should have thought I’d made that clear,” he said quietly. “I want a son.”

She turned her head to glare up at him. “What is clear is that I’m nothing more to you than chattel. You think you can simply command me and I will leap to do your bidding.”

“You are not chattel. You are my wife.”

Rising to her feet, she faced him fully. “I am hardly your wife. Admit it, I am nothing more to you than a broodmare. A convenient means to slake your lust.”

“That isn’t true.”

“If not, then why are you here in my bedchamber against my wishes?”

“I intend to sleep here tonight, Brynn.”

“And you are giving me absolutely no choice in the matter?”

His features remained enigmatic. “Must I remind you of the vows we spoke before the altar?”

“Ah, yes, our holy vows. I’m certain you respect those so highly.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, he met her hot gaze levelly. “Come to bed with me, Brynn.” His words were soft, imperious, and made her go rigid.

“And if I refuse?”

There was a moment of silence. “You haven’t the right to refuse. You’re my wife.”

Her jaw clenched. She had always been proud, perhaps to a fault, but even though she despised being thought of as merely Lucian’s possession, she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Under English law, a man’s wife was his property to do with as he saw fit. She didn’t have the legal right to deny him her bed. But that didn’t mean she had to welcome him.

She gave Lucian a scathing look, which she saw had no effect. His face could have been carved from granite for all the emotion he showed.

The silence lengthened, gathering tension with every drawn-out moment. As she stood defiant before him, he spoke again, this time in a voice that was low and silken.

“I think you’ve already proven you don’t have the willpower to resist me, any more than I can you.”

Brynn felt sudden despair well up in her. That was the problem. She found Lucian irresistible. But she couldn’t give in to her urges. All she could do was try to protect them both with cold indifference. She lifted her chin, giving him an icy stare.

Lucian viewed her chill expression with feigned apathy. A sharp longing knotted his insides as his gaze swept over her. Her vibrant hair shimmered, cloaking her shoulders in a mass of fire and silk. He had to set his teeth to keep from dragging her into his arms. It would be wiser, he reminded himself, to get this over with at once, before the hunger burning within him eroded the last of his self-control.

“You had best accustom yourself to my visits,” he said, keeping his own tone cool. “I intend to sleep with you each and every night, at least until you conceive.”

“Until I conceive?” Brynn narrowed her gaze, finding a glimmer of hope in his declaration. “And then you will leave me alone?”

There was a long pause. “If you wish it. Once you present me with an heir, there will no longer be any urgent need for me to ‘slake my lust,” as you put it.“

“I shall hold you to that promise.”

Regally she went to the bed, then slid beneath the covers, giving him her back. Moments later she felt the mattress shift as he sat beside her. She stiffened when his fingers plucked the sleeve of her nightdress.