Tldr review: uneven book that's too rapey for my tastes -- although neither hero nor heroine nor their contemporaries would consider the scenes that most bother me rape, since they're within a marriage.
Coulter has a sense of humor that I recognize but do not share. Which is fine in theory -- I don't share goodly chunks of Johanna Lindsey's sense of humor and still get a kick out of most of her novels -- but this is the second Coulter book I've read in this century (pretty sure I read some in the 1990s), and it didn't do much for me. In the first book of the Bride's trilogy, Coulter found it absolutely hilarious that the hero, who viewed himself as a great lover, inevitably lost control while having sex with the heroine and took her in a white heat. That is not something I personally find amusing, but I found the fact that Coulter did intellectually interesting, and it didn’t hurt my interest in the book any.
But in that book, although the heroine had dealt with some minor abuse, mostly her problem was having dealt with emotional neglect resulting in a poor self-image, so the hero was not hitting her in her weak spot, if you will. In this book, however, the heroine has dealt with serious past abuse of all kinds – verbal, emotional, physical, and sexual – and the first night they have sex, the hero loses control and hurts her. Twice. (He takes a nap in between.) I don’t find that funny or intellectually interesting; I find that cruel.
Coulter also finds it hilarious that this heroine, while believing she hates the hero, responds violently to the sight of him talking to his various former lovers. Coulter thinks this is funny, I assume, because the heroine’s jealousy is indicative of the fact she’s secretly in love with the hero every bit as much as he is with her. But jealousy is not always grounded in love. And even if it is, it doesn’t have to be grounded in the heroine’s love of the hero; extremely selfish people are often jealous out of love for self!
Jealousy can also be purely territorial; the interloper endangers the security of the jealous person by threatening an unstable relationship. There doesn’t have to be any love for that to happen, and frankly, that seems to be what’s happening with this heroine. She doesn’t like the hero or her situation, but she accepts it, and recognizes that she has few other options, meaning another woman – particularly one the hero already has a close relationship with – is a serious threat, and she responds as if this is the case. Then she realizes she’s acting irrationally and settles down.
The author wants me to see things differently, and probably many romance fans do see it the way the author wants them to, but I don’t. I am odd as a romance reader because I do not perceive romantic love as some irrational force that just takes people over despite themselves. I understand that’s how some people experience it and I even think the heroes of Coulter’s books that I have read are generally that sort of person, but as someone who doesn’t perceive it that way, I see romantic love as grounded in something different and don’t buy some of Coulter’s assumptions about it.
The hero continues to force sex on the heroine, intending to bring her pleasure, and while the heroine clearly does not appreciate it at the time, she is also fantasizing that he do everything to her she sees done by the sleazy statues in the “secret” garden, which makes no sense at all. Romances are not known for reflecting reality, but this book is ridiculous. Eventually the hero’s magic cock cures all, which is annoying, because that’s not how abused people work.
I don’t mind tormented heroines, but when an author puts her heroine through so much, I expect a serious pay off in the sense of a loving, considerate hero. This hero has his moments (most of them consisting of unbelievable mindreading), but he continues to treat the heroine terribly in the bedroom pretty much until she unrealistically ‘self-heals’ after he finally manages to give her an orgasm. The reader has to take the HEA on faith because the story isn’t particularly convincing.
Aside from the relationship between the hero and heroine (which is, of course, the core of the book), this book was readable enough, with various mysteries and shenanigans going on to keep things moving. But it’s a kitchen sink plot where new and (mostly) unrelated trials arrive as necessary, rather than a coherent and cohesive story where things neatly interconnect. And while the characters have personalities, those personalities seem to shift a bit from book to book and situation to situation, sometimes in ways that make sense (people who were strong in an abusive situation can indeed become oddly sad and passive in a safer environment as they deal with the pain they set aside before), but often in ways that puzzle me (the hero going from right rude and nasty to impossibly saintly).
One thing that did amuse me was the hero's never fail move "that made every woman he’d ever known squirm and moan when he caressed there," because if he tried that move on me I would crown him. That's one of the few spots on my entire body that are absolutely off limits to hubby, because I cannot stand to be touched there. If there really are any male "great lovers" out there (having talked to a lot of woman with partners in the dozens I have my doubts), the great lovers are guys who are attuned to the woman and follow her lead in what is and isn't pleasurable, not the guys who've developed various techniques they routinely fall back on.