Page 42 of The Rebel's Prize

She dumped her nightgown on the nearest chair. "You're supposed to be resting. Let me help you with that."

"I am not made of glass. I'll be fine removing my own footwear."

"Just let me help you."

He rolled his eyes. "I feel there is some irony in you insisting that you're allowed to help me when you are still resisting the fact that I came to help you."

"You resisted my help, too," she pointed out. "You refused the bond."

Something close to sadness flickered across his expression. "That's different."

"Why?" she asked.

"I've already said what I'm willing to say on that subject for tonight."

"You know, you think you're not like your mother, but you're just as stubborn as she is."

He scowled. "Let's add my mother to the things I don't want to talk about tonight." He stretched out a booted foot. "Here. The faster we do this, the faster we can both rest."

Had he even told his mother that he was unwell? Part of her selfishly hoped not. Jacquelin de Roche had enough reasons to be irritated with her without adding Lucien's health back to the list. She closed her hands around the ankle of the boot, the soft leather warm to her touch.

"Why is you refusing the bond different?" she asked as she worked his boot free. "It would help you."

Lucien flopped back on the bed, an arm covering his face. "The bond is too close. I don't want to share that again. Not when—"

She looked up from where she was working his second boot off his foot. "What?"

"Do you really want me to say it?"

For the second, or maybe even third, time that night, her heart felt as though it might stop. Did he want a divorce now?

"I—" she started to say, then snapped her teeth shut when she couldn't figure out what came after that.

Lucien was watching her, green eyes wary.

"Well?" he asked.

Her wits seemed to have evaporated. "I—" she said again. Her mind raced, thinking back to the night of their second wedding. Only a few days past two weeks ago. Back then, she thought she would still walk away from him eventually, but she'd been looking forward to enjoying him in the meantime. Now...after the panic she'd had when he'd collapsed, and the way the thought of his rejection stung, well, she didn't really know what her feelings were. Other than confused.

She rubbed her hand briefly on her collarbone. "It's been a long day," she said finally. "Perhaps we should just sleep."

His expression turned a little disappointed, but then he nodded briskly. "Very well." He gestured to his feet. "I'm sure I can take it from here. You can get changed." He nodded toward the far end of the room. "Don't worry, I won't watch."

Chloe retreated to the other end of the room, given there was really no other option but to either continue a conversation she wasn't ready for or get ready for bed.

Moving back to where she'd left the pile of nightclothes, she reached behind her to unfasten her dress.Goddessdamn it. She needed help to unbutton the dress. She made a frustrated noise and turned back to find Lucien watching her.

"You said you wouldn't look," she said accusingly.

He smirked. "You made a sound. I looked up to see whether everything was all right."

He seemed a little too pleased with himself for her to believe him entirely.

She made an irritated gesture at the back of her dress. "I need help to get out of this thing. I should call for a maid."

"I may be a little under the weather, but I haven't forgotten how to unbutton a gown. Come over here and I can do it for you."

She stiffened. That seemed like aterribleidea.

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