He had to make Rothborn see he would do anything to make her happy, to be a good husband to her. Her parents might approve the match—her mother, at least—but the idea of marrying the woman Rothborn had warned him to stay clear of and losing his approval for good… well, that made Raphe feel ill. There had been few men in Raphe’s life whom he’d admired and wished to emulate, but Rothborn had stood out like a shining beacon of everything a man ought to be. He was strong and honourable, a war hero, a loving husband and father, a good friend, and a man you could depend on, come what may. If Rothborn washed his hands of Raphe, his one anchor in the world would fall away.
Raphe returned to his room and removed his ruined suit, staring at it gloomily. He could not afford to replace it. Perhaps he could have it cleaned and repaired? He inspected a greasy stain on the elbow of his coat and cast the damn thing to the floor in disgust. God, what a mess.
Walking to the window, he pulled back the curtain, looking out over the gardens about Royle House, glinting in the moonlight. What must it feel like to be Bainbridge, with such wealth at one’s disposal? He battered down a surge of unwelcome jealousy. Bainbridge hadn’t had an easy run either, for all his wealth and his title, and he’d been a good friend. A pain in Raphe’s arse too, but a good friend.
Once upon a time, Raphe had raged against his father and his feckless waste of their fortune. It had made him furious and resentful. Those days were gone, replaced by a weary resignation and a wistful longing for what he’d lost. Their home had not been vast or opulent, nothing to compare to Royle House, or even Rowsley Hall, but it had seemed grand to him when he’d been a boy. He’d been happy there, once. Raphe closed his eyes, attempting to remember his home in better times, but the memory was elusive, shying away as he tried to capture it. He tried instead to imagine Greer there. Would she like it? Perhaps she would think it too small, for it could not compete with the imposing building they were staying in tonight.
He sighed and leaned his forehead against the cold glass for a moment.
“Buck up,” he muttered under his breath.
There was no point in dwelling on the past. The future counted now. What he did next counted now. Resolving to do better, Raphe stood and closed the curtains, stripping off his clothes and pouring water from the jug provided into a basin to wash with. He stoked the fire to take the chill off the room, getting the flames leaping and then returned to the basin with a clean cloth and soap.
“Christ,” he cursed, sucking in a breath as the cloth swept over a livid bruise where Plumpton’s large friend had hit him repeatedly in the ribs.
Peering into the mirror on the wall, he noticed he had a black eye and a bruise on his jaw. Well, what a charming sight he made. What perfect husband material. He gave a bitter laugh. A further inspection of his person revealed a large bruise on his hip, a trail of smaller interconnected bruises blooming over his back, and a colourful boot print on his left thigh. Everything hurt. Steeling himself, he carried on with his ablutions, doing his best to ignore the pain of various minor hurts.
“Oh, my!”
Raphe jolted, dropping the cloth in the basin with a splash and turning around. He was so stunned by the sight of Greer in his bedroom that he didn’t react at all. He just stood frozen in place, staring at her.
Even in the dim candlelight, he could tell she’d gone a startling shade of scarlet before she averted her gaze, staring determinedly at the carpet.
“I b-beg your pardon,” she stammered, the words breathless. “I ought to have knocked, only I heard footsteps behind me, and I didn’t want anyone to see me here.”
“That’s all right,” Raphe replied, though he knew it wasn’t. He was stark bollock naked in front of her, for the love of God, but he was still in shock.
She glanced at him hesitantly, and Raphe knew he ought to cover himself, but the way she looked at him made his heart thud with excitement and masculine pride. Her eyes were wide with fascination, her hungry gaze devouring him and, judging from the way her breath hitched, approval. His cock twitched with interest, reacting predictably to the proximity of the woman he wanted so desperately. Greer’s gaze fastened upon his growing arousal, making matters worse still as her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. To his mingled joy and dismay, he saw she wore a nightgown with only a brushed cotton robe over the top. She was naked beneath that. No corset. No acres of petticoats.
Behave, Raphe, you dog.
“Oh! You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, moving towards him.
“No, don’t!” he croaked, holding out a hand to stop her. If she touched him, things were going to go downhill fast, and he’d promised himself he was leaving, that he wouldn’t do any more damage than he already had. Reaching out, he grabbed his dressing gown from the bed and shrugged it on, covering himself.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he snapped, though he wasn’t angry with her, only with himself for his appalling behaviour.
“I know,” she said hesitantly. “But I wanted to explain and… and to thank you, Raphe, for what you did. I knew you were good and honourable, but tonight—oh, you were marvellous!”
Before he could stop her, she had crossed the room and flung her arms about his waist, holding on tight. Raphe froze, too aware of her warm body against his, the softness of her breasts cushioned against him.
“Greer,” he said helplessly, staring down at her. “You must go.”
She shook her head, holding on tighter. “No. If I go, you’ll leave.”
Raphe stilled. “What—?”
She looked up at him, her green eyes seeming to read his thoughts as easily as if he’d printed the words upon his skin. “You think you caused a dreadful scandal, that Rothborn will be furious with you, and so you’ll go away and try to find some way to make amends, but it will take years before you’re satisfied, and I don’t want to wait that long. I want you, just as you are, and I don’t care if Rothborn approves or not, but I cannot believe he would have acted any differently than you did tonight, and so I shall tell him.”
Raphe could do nothing but breathe, there were too many feelings careening about in his chest and he did not know what do to with them all. When she had faced the crowd, risked ruining herself in front of the entire bloody ton to defend him, something had happened, something profound and unchangeable. His arms went around her, holding her to him, and she fit as if she had always been there, by design or destiny.
Raphe closed his eyes and let out a sigh, uncertain if it were of relief or resignation. This was not infatuation. No amount of self-delusion could keep denying it. He was not merely besotted with this vivacious, madcap, reckless girl. He was falling for her, hard and fast and with no net to catch him. Strangely, he wasn’t sure he wanted a net. For once in his life, he needed someone to be worthy of, someone who belonged to him alone. Why Greer had chosen him he could not fathom, but as Bainbridge had said, he was a selfish devil. She might be able to do better, but he couldn’t, so he’d work far harder than a worthier man to make her happy.
“Don’t go,” Greer whispered.
Raphe settled his chin upon her head, cherishing the moment, the feel of her in his arms.
“I won’t go.”
She let out a breath, relaxing in his embrace.
“What was the dare?” he asked.
Greer looked up, her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight, shining with a beguiling mixture of defiance and embarrassment.
“I’m a Daring Daughter. We all have to take a dare from the hat, like our mothers did.”
Raphe returned a blank look, and she laughed.
“I think you’d better begin at the beginning,” he said.
“All right, then.”
Raphe hesitated, knowing he ought to make her leave, but he wanted her to stay. He needed her with him. Everything always seemed so much better when she was close. So, being a selfish bastard, he took her hand and drew her to the chair by the fireplace. He sat down and pulled her into his lap. She went willingly, curving a hand
about his neck and laying her head against his shoulder as she told him the story of the Peculiar Ladies, the mismatched group of girls who had found each other, themselves, and love, through a variety of dares taken from an old top hat.
“And the original dares are all still in it?” he asked, diverted to consider the Duchess of Bedwin and some of the most respected ladies of the ton doing such shocking things.
Greer nodded. “They are, though we’ve added some new ones too, as some of the old ones are getting hard to read.”
“And will your daughters do such dreadful things as you’ve written on those bits of paper?” he asked softly, reaching out to trace a finger down the soft curve of her cheek.
“I hope so,” she said with a smile. “Though I hope they don’t make such a mull of it as I did. I ought to have thought it through better. It was foolish of me to act as I did, and I caused you a great deal of trouble. Your poor face….” She touched the bruise on his jaw with careful fingers. “I’m so sorry.”
“I doesn’t matter,” he said, feeling something like terror fizzing in his blood, his heart racing in his chest as he gathered his courage. “I’m only sorry that I didn’t find you in time, because… because there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“Yes?”
Raphe nodded, swallowing hard. His hands felt clammy all at once. What if she said no? What then? Well, then he’d just have to spend every moment proving he was the man she needed, the one she ought to marry. Yes, all right, he had a dreadful reputation, a crumbling estate, no money, and two brothers and his stepmother to support, but he still had an advantage, assuming she would see the one plus in his favour as an advantage.
She stared at him expectantly and Raphe tried to find something romantic to say. He was never usually short of words, especially the passionate words women wanted to hear. His charm was the reason for his success with the ladies, along with his easy manner and quick wit. This ought to be a simple matter, but it was too important for glib words. She meant too much to use the same old trite phrases, even if he meant every word with all his heart this time.
“Raphe? What is it? Is something wrong?”
He let out a huff of laughter and shook his head. “No. No for the first time in my life I have something that is perfectly, wonderfully right, and though I know I ought to, I don’t think I can bear to let it go.”
She stilled in his arms, watching him. Unable to resist the lure of her sweet mouth a moment longer, Raphe leaned in a stole a kiss, desire and longing coiling about him at the touch of her petal-soft lips against his.
“I can’t let you go,” he whispered. “I don’t deserve you. I’ve nothing to offer you when so many other men could give you so much more. I have only one thing that they don’t, that they can’t possibly give you, Greer.”
“Raphe,” she said, her eyes glittering now, over bright with emotion.
“I’m giving you my heart, love,” he said, feeling as though that poor organ was beating on the outside of his chest, undefended and vulnerable. “Because you’ve stolen it anyway, and I can’t let you give it back. I think it might kill me.”
She made a soft sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and, before he could demand an answer, her mouth pressed to his, her arms pulling him closer with surprising strength. His breath caught as she opened to him, her tongue making a tentative exploration of his mouth. God, but she was so sweet, so delicious. He plundered, too overwhelmed by her enthusiasm to hold back, though he had meant for this to be all tenderness and care. Greer was not of the same mind and fidgeted on his lap, almost doing him an injury with an injudicious press of her knee as she climbed over him. Raphe sucked in a breath as she straddled him, pressing close, his aching cock nestled perfectly against her cleft.
“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder as shivers of pleasure rolled over him. If she moved so much as an inch, he was going to come. He grasped her hips, holding her still as he realised she was about to do just that.
“No!” he gasped, shaking his head. “N-No, don’t move. Don’t. Move.”
“At all?” she queried, giving him a curious look. “Oh, did I hurt you? My knee—” she began in alarm.
Raphe made a smothered sound. “No. Not pain. Just… give me a moment.”
Closing his eyes, Raphe willed himself to calm down, cursing his ungovernable member. Get a grip, you brainless article. If you disgrace me, you’ll be sorry. Slowly, he felt the danger recede somewhat and dared to open his eyes. A mistake.
Greer was staring at him, a sparkle of mischief in the glittering green that boded ill.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, a great deal too innocently, the wretch.
“You know damn well you did something far too right,” he retorted. “But never mind that. I still need to ask you something.”
“Yes,” she replied simply.
Raphe stared at her. Had she—? Did she mean—?
“Yes?” he repeated. “Yes, what? You don’t know—”
“It doesn’t matter. Yes, to all of it. Take me to bed, darling.”
“What? No!” he exclaimed, before his over-eager body could reply for him. For once in his misbegotten life, he was going to do this properly. “Wait. Did you just agree to marry me?”
“Of course I did.”
Raphe’s heart did a sort of mad dance in his chest, and he let out a bark of laughter. “You will?”
“I will,” she agreed, beaming at him.
“Ha!” he said, and, because he was too full of joy to think of anything more coherent, he added another. “Ha!”
“I think you’re supposed to kiss me now,” she said, deceptively demure.
“I think you’re supposed to be fully dressed and within hailing distance of a chaperone,” he said dryly, though obviously he was going to kiss her.
“We’re both dreadful, Raphe,” she said solemnly. “The sooner you get used to the idea, the happier you’ll be.”
“Yes, love,” he replied, willing to agree with anything she said in this moment, so long as he could kiss her.
Raphe slid his hand around the slender curve of her neck, sinking his fingers into hair like warm silk as he pulled her mouth to his. The kiss was slower this time, deeper, and as he savoured her, he thought perhaps he could manage this. Then the wicked girl rolled her hips against his, making a soft sound of pleasure at the exquisite friction, and he was raging out of control all over again.
“Take me to bed,” she gasped, moving steadily against him until his brain was fogged with lust.
He shook his head, determined not to give in, even as his hands fumbled with the fastening of her dressing gown, pushing it open before reaching for the ties of her nightgown. Raphe tugged and pulled until both garments were down about her elbows, trapping her arms and exposing her lush breasts to him. His mouth watered as he took a moment to appreciate the lavish bounty before him, before settling in for the feast.
Greer gasped as he licked and suckled, dividing his attention evenly as he worked each pink bud to a hard little peak. He toyed with her, nipping and grazing the tender skin with his teeth as she became increasingly flustered.
“Raphe,” she gasped, tugging her arms free of their imprisonment and pulling his head close, holding him in place, as if he had the slightest desire to be anywhere else. “Oh, please, please.”
Her desperate words finally penetrated his lust-filled brain.
“Easy, love,” he murmured, “I’ll make it better.”
“Yes, oh, yes. Take me to bed, make me yours,” she pleaded.
The desire to do as she asked was an enticement beyond anything he had ever felt before. He knew the pleasure of giving into temptation and was far too familiar with the burning itch for something you knew had the power to destroy you, yet that was nothing compared to this. Wanting her, wanting to show her how he felt for her, had a power like nothing he had ever known. Yet, stronger still was the need to honour her, to make her happy, to
keep her safe, and this was not the way, no matter what she said.
“No. Not until we’re wed,” he managed, forcing the words out. “But I’ll make it good for you, love.”
“Please,” she begged him as he hiked up her nightgown and fumbled with the ties of his dressing gown.
Raphe tugged her down again, and they both gasped, electrified by the feel of his hot shaft pressing against her damp heat with no barriers between them.
Raphe gritted his teeth, far too aware of how close he was to the place he needed to be. He could do this, he told himself. This was for Greer, as much as he dared to give her, or dared allow himself as pleasure simmered beneath his skin, threatening to unravel what remained of his fraying control. The devil he tried so hard to keep leashed rattled the bars of his cage, urging him to take what was on offer, to make her his. Yet for once Raphe did not heed him. There was devil enough in her eyes, and he loved that about her, recognising a kindred spirit, one that could not always be as good as they ought to be. He rocked his hips against her, sliding against her slick heat, and she dropped her head, burying her face against his neck with a smothered cry.
Raphe smoothed his hands up the backs of her thighs, cupping her glorious derriere and squeezing gently, urging her closer against him as he thrust quicker. His mind stuttered and grew hazy as she moved with him, faster and more insistent as the delicious sensation gathered inside him, drawing his balls tight. Oh, please, God, hurry, love, he prayed.
Dare to Risk it All (Daring Daughters Book 7) Page 14