by Kimberly Nee
She winced at how weak she sounded and then made the mistake of looking up at him. Rafe didn’t look away, but pulled on her arm to draw her closer. Her heart tripled its pace all the while her brain screamed at her to break free, to run as fast as she could back to Marchand Hall. However, her feet were obviously much stronger and refused to budge. They remained where they were, trapping her as he pulled her up to his broad chest. She managed to hold back a whimper at the jostling of her bones and sore muscles. But the pain faded as his arms tightened about her. At that moment, she doubted she would feel her arm being ripped clean off her body.
She saw his kiss coming, but did nothing to avoid it. She should avoid it, should duck and slip free from his embrace and run as fast as her achy body would let her, as swiftly as her one good eye would allow. Instead, she let his lips slant over hers, warm and soft, and when he tightened his hold on her, her arms slid about his waist of their own accord. Her hands pressed flat into his solid back, gripping two handfuls of pale gray linen as he bent her back ever so slightly.
His lips moved slowly, sensually. They parted and the tip of his tongue nudged her closed lips. Every last ache vanished as if it had only been an unpleasant dream. His kiss awakened something inside her, something she thought had long since died. There was something inherently powerful, feeling how Rafe wanted her. His body didn’t lie, his muscles like thick bands of flexible steel. Only there wasn’t much flex in them at the moment. He was tense and taut, and probably held himself that way to keep from trembling against her.
He groaned, his tongue growing more insistent. She couldn’t keep resisting, and opened her mouth to the gentle pressure, letting him taste her with a slow teasing that fired her blood and sent her pulse racing. She had thought she’d forgotten just how magnificent his kisses were, but she’d been wrong. It was every bit as sweet as she remembered, every bit as sensuous. He didn’t rush, didn’t force, but just let his tongue slide along hers in a silken stroke that left her head spinning.
Her knees threatened to buckle, so she gripped her handfuls of shirt even tighter, and when he finally pulled back to break the kiss, she was breathless and fairly sure she was about to faint.
She wouldn’t. She didn’t faint from kissing. Then again, she’d kissed very few men. And none of them had kissed with the same sensual mastery as Rafael Sebastiano.
In her former line of work, kissing was to be avoided at all costs. It was too personal, too intimate. Personal in such work was never a good thing. Personal led to grandiose dreams and troubles galore. The no-kissing rule was one of the first she had learned and one that always served her well. It was also the first rule she had broken when she met Rafe.
Until this moment, she had never regretted breaking it.
No. She still didn’t regret it, as Rafe broke their kiss to sweep his lips along her jaw and nuzzle her. She waited for him to pull away and declare he’d made a mistake, that he hadn’t meant to kiss her, and all that sort of nonsense.
His breath was soft on her ear, soft but not slow, as if their kiss had snatched the air from his lungs. He didn’t release her, which was just fine with her. He could hold her this way, arms tight about her, forever, and she would be perfectly happy.
But nothing lasted forever. Eventually, he pulled back to brush a kiss over the tip of her nose. “We should try again, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.”
She groaned, only this time it was in frustration. Now she regretted allowing him to kiss her. Bracing her hands on his chest, she pushed him away. “And how do you think Lady Sally would feel about that?”
He had the good grace to look uncomfortable, but that didn’t help her irritation, as he wasn’t making breaking contact any easier. “About that—”
Now she was able to step back, out of his arms. “What about that? Did you assume I would simply fall into your arms again because I did so once before?” It wasn’t exactly easy, mustering up so much ire when she still felt dizzy from his steamy kiss, but it had to be done. If she didn’t take care, she would fall back into his arms just like that.
Not that it was all manufactured. She liked Lady Sally and didn’t want to be the reason why the lady was hurt. Judging by how she had seemed to glow the previous evening, Lady Sally obviously cared for Rafe. There really was nothing else Katie could do except push him away.
“All I know is that I have missed you, and it—it just seemed right.” The winds picked up to ruffle his wavy hair into glossy black peaks and ripple through his shirt. “And I do wish you’d tell me who did that to you—” he reached out to touch the bruise, but she jerked out of his reach before he could make contact, “—because I’d like to have a word with them about it.”
Somehow, she didn’t think a word was all he wanted. Rafe was more of a fighter than a poet.
And if anyone was going to hit Abigail, it was going to be Katie.
“I appreciate your concern, but that won’t be necessary. I plan on having that word myself.” She stepped back, trying to put as much space between them as she could. It was the only way she wouldn’t give into the urge to feel his strong body against hers again. “What is necessary is that you stay away from me, Rafe. Far away. I like it here. I’m happy. I don’t want to have to leave, and if I lose this job, I will. If you care about me—even just a little bit—you’ll respect that. You’ll keep your distance from me.”
He stared at her, unblinking, and she expected him to protest. It seemed to be on his mind, as various expressions of discomfort marched across his face. But he rubbed the back of his neck and slowly nodded. “Very well. If that’s what you want, of course I’ll respect it.”
“Lady Sally cares for you. You should have heard how she spoke of you last evening.” The words were so hard to say, almost painful, but she had to make him see reason. She could only say it once. “I could never ruin that for her, even if I wouldn’t lose my job.” Her throat constricted sharply, and she coughed to clear it. “Besides, she will make you a good wife.”
Although she did her best, she couldn’t keep the bitterness from those last words, and even Rafe flinched. Her throat squeezed tight, forcing her to clear it again. “Everyone will love her.”
“Everyone except me, you mean,” Rafe told her, his voice soft but his words clear.
“Not yet, perhaps. But that doesn’t mean you never will.” At his long look, she shook her head. “Besides, you don’t love me. That’s something you’ve talked yourself into. Whether it’s because you feel guilty or sorry, I don’t know, but I do know that you’re lying to yourself.” Her back straightened and she held his gaze easily. “I know what I am, what I was, and although I’m not proud of it, it didn’t make me less worthy of being with you. It didn’t make me any less worthy at all. I understand that. It’s only a shame that you didn’t.”
“I didn’t—”
“No, you didn’t.” A humorless laugh wrapped around her words, and it was the only way to keep her voice even. “You didn’t stand up for me when your mother was ranting about the fallen woman and how I wasn’t fit to wipe her boots. You said nothing.”
“That’s not true.”
“How can you say that?” she demanded. “Did you confront her? Did you tell her how unacceptable her words were? Did you ask her to look at what I’d done for Aidrian and Vanessa, and judge me for anything other than what I had to do in order to survive? Did you even ask them to call me by my given name instead of that horrid word, ‘tart,’ they so favored? They didn’t have to call me Miss Dunn, but Katie would have been just fine.”
She swallowed hard. “You let them speak to me—speak about me—like that. And then you let them toss me out directly into the gutter. How could you? How could you do that to me, Rafe? What had I done that was so terrible, that not one of your brothers—or even you—was equally guilty of?” Tears stung her eyes, but she wasn’t about to let them fall if she could help it, so
she looked up at the sky. Iron-gray clouds had begun gathering. Perfect. They matched her stormy mood. “That even Vanessa was guilty of, for if your mother thinks she was a virgin on their wedding night—”
Her voice broke and she struggled to calm it, murmuring, “You didn’t fight for me, Rafe. You didn’t.”
She turned her gaze back to him to find him rubbing his forehead. “I did what I could,” he offered, and the lameness of his words made them both wince. He sighed, and the pain in his eyes was palpable. “Very well, I took the easy way out, and I failed you. I was a damned coward. And there isn’t a damned thing I can do to right it, is there?”
“No, there isn’t. Not now.” She forced a smile, although smiling was the last thing she felt like doing. “Take care of yourself, Rafe. Don’t do anything foolish. And when you return home, please give my congratulations to Aidrian and Vanessa. I miss her and think of her often.”
He nodded. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“Good.” With that, Katie ducked her head and limped away before she changed her mind and launched herself into his arms again.
Chapter Ten
As Katie walked away, Rafe swore softly beneath his breath but remained where he was. She vanished up the path leading to Marchand Hall, swallowed up by the swaying palmetto and palm leaves, leaving him as alone as a man on a deserted island. Was it possible to never learn one’s lesson? Was it entirely possible that he was stupid enough to let her walk out of his life yet again, when he’d sworn to himself that if he should ever cross paths with her, he’d do his damndest to win her back?
Triumph had sped through him when she’d melted into him, when she’d returned his kiss with such feverish intensity that he’d wanted to pull her down onto the sand and pin her beneath him forever. He wanted nothing more than to make everything right between them. It would be the most important first step he’d ever taken, and the waiting drove him mad. Trouble was, not only did he not know how to do it, Katie had made herself fairly clear that it might not even be possible.
“Son of a—” He plunked down on the sand and stared out at the water. In the distance, heavy gray clouds loomed, rolling toward them like a thick fog. After Katie had left him, he’d searched for her in Hispaniola, Puerto Rico, and every other island he could think of in the West Indies. All for naught. She had been nowhere to be found. But that hadn’t meant he couldn’t keep looking for her—and he had. However, he’d given precious little thought to what he would do after he found her, aside from furiously apologizing for his weakness and cowardice. She had to know, even if she didn’t care, what it took for him to swallow his prickly male pride and ask—no, beg—her forgiveness. If it meant dropping to his knees before her, he’d do it.
Of course, in all of his scenarios, her reaction was vastly different from what had actually happened.
He hadn’t thought it would be this difficult to win her back. Obviously, he was an idiot. He’d hurt her and done so terribly, and had no idea how to right it.
Then there was Sally to consider.
He groaned, letting his head fall forward into his hand. “What a mess.”
“Talking to yourself again? People are going to think you’ve lost your mind.”
His groan deepened as Serena dropped down beside him in a flutter of pale peach muslin. He adored his sisters, but they were busybodies, and the last thing he wanted, or needed, was Serena butting into his problems. This just wasn’t something he felt like sharing, especially with his family. “What do you want?”
“A fine greeting and a good morning to you, too, Rafe.”
He peered over his arm to find her squinting at the water. “Where’s Elena?”
“I haven’t the foggiest. She might still be abed for all I know.” Serena shrugged, her chin propped on her folded arms. She glanced over at him, then just as quickly looked back out to sea. After a beat, she asked, “Are you really going to marry Sally?”
He swallowed another groan. “Who told you I was?”
“Lucita. She was apparently talking to Lady Edna’s maid yesterday. The entire staff is practically buzzing with anticipation, and yet I’ve seen no wedding preparations and the bride doesn’t act like a bride.” She turned her squint to him. “So, what’re you waiting for? Have you even asked her yet?”
“I hadn’t realized it was any of your concern.”
“No.” Her nose wrinkled, even as a flush swept through her cheeks toward her hairline. “I don’t suppose it is, but I am curious. I know she always carried a bit of a torch for Aidrian, and with him off the table I suppose she had to find someone else. Trouble is, why did she choose you?”
“I thank you for that, Rena.”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. It’s simply that we’ve all known each other a long time and you’ve never given any indication that you had any desire to marry. Anyone. Never mind Sally.”
“Well, I suppose it’s time I started thinking about it, and perhaps Aidrian’s marrying had something to do with that. It’s got me thinking about my life, what I want from it. And just because I haven’t said anything about it, doesn’t mean it hasn’t been on my mind.”
“If you say so.” She offered another careless shrug. However, he knew his sister, and she wasn’t nearly as carefree as she wanted him to think.
It was his turn to twist around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She continued staring out at the water. “It means ‘perhaps’. Nothing more and nothing less.”
The wind grew stronger still, and since she hadn’t troubled with her bonnet, strands of her hair flew around her face. It whipped about, pulling free from its braid, and she clawed a handful out of her eyes, spat another lock from her mouth. “If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t act much like a willing groom either. Is this wedding your idea, or was it Mami’s? I know how…persuasive she can be at times.”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because, as I said, you’ve never given any indication that you were the least bit interested in marrying. And I don’t think you’ve been pondering it either, no matter what you would have me believe.”
“Did you ever stop to think that might be because it isn’t anyone’s concern but my own?” He didn’t even try to keep the irritation from his voice. “I didn’t realize I had to let everyone in on, or approve of, my plans.”
“Rafe, I didn’t mean—”
He got to his feet, brushing the sand from his breeches. “Of course you didn’t. No one ever means to butt in, and yet it doesn’t stop every last one of you from doing it.”
She scrambled up, lunging at him to catch him by the wrist. “Rafe, please, I honestly wasn’t trying to butt in. I’m concerned. That’s all.”
He was about to jerk free, but as quickly as it flared, his annoyance receded. A dull headache nipped behind his eyes. “I know that. And I appreciate it. But I’ve made such a mess of things, it doesn’t matter if I make one more mistake, does it?”
“Now you’re just pitying yourself, and there’s nothing pretty about that.” She released his arm, but not before giving it a gentle squeeze. “What’s going on?”
Four years separated them, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Aidrian was the one he usually unburdened himself to, but Aidrian wasn’t here. He was home on St. Phillippe with his wife and their babies. A flash of envy as strong and sharp as a saber sliced through him. He could have had what Aidrian had, except he wasn’t half as honorable as his brother. Aidrian wouldn’t have let Katie leave St. Phillippe. He wouldn’t have let her leave alone. He’d have fought for her, just as he’d fought for Vanessa.
The way Rafe would fight for Katie now, if she would only let him.
He stared down at Serena as an idea took formation. “You’re a girl.”
“How nice of you to notice,” she retorted dryl
y.
“No. No, that’s not what I meant. You understand how women think.” The long look she gave him suggested he’d definitely lost his mind. “I haven’t gone mad, and I’m not quite the idiot everyone thinks I am. I just don’t understand how women think, and you do. I need to pick your girlish brain.”
“My girlish what?” Serena’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I like this, Rafe. What are you talking about?”
“Just listen and it’ll all make sense.” He took her by the wrist to tug her back onto the sand beside him. “At least, I hope it does. And try not to get too angry with me.”
“Why am I going to get angry?”
He drew in a deep breath, ready to spill his guts, and hoped he didn’t add Rena’s name to the list of women who despised him. Before he could turn coward again, he blurted, “Katie.”
“Katie.” Serena’s forehead wrinkled and her eyes took on a puzzled look. Then they widened. “One of the maids? What about her?”
He sighed. “She’s the woman from Kingston. The one I brought back to St. Phillippe from Jamaica.”
Serena sucked in a sharp breath, holding it in her mouth by pressing a hand to her lips. He nodded, and she peeled her hand back to breathe, “The one who helped Vanessa? The wh—” He scowled at her, and she clamped her lips together, her eyes nearly popping from their sockets as she swallowed the rest of the word and whispered, “The one Mami tossed out?”
He nodded. “The very same.”
“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean, you moped about her for weeks and now she’s here and you’re here.” Serena’s horrified expression vanished, replaced by a smile. Her words practically toppled over one another in their haste. “And now you don’t have to mope! And she isn’t a…well…that anymore. She’s a respectable lady’s maid now and no one seems the wiser to what she once was. But—” she frowned, “—where does Sally come into all this?”