Reflexively, Rayne stepped back, stretching his jaw and holding the spot where Bromton’s fist had landed—a fatal wound to the friendship on which he’d built his entire world.
Worse still, he could not blame Bromton for the blow at all.
“That was”—she blinked, eyes filling—“horribleof you.”
She hadno idea.
He wanted to kiss her again, more than a starving man wanted food. He wanted to stoke all his latent cravings, be consumed by them, and then be remade into something new that was hers and hers alone. For the first time since he’d returned, he sensed a home.
Lies born of temptation, nothing more. He had no heart to lay at her feet.
Moreover, he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t have done everything he’d sneeringly described to Bromton. Hecouldhave—in the grip of that fatal mix of self-righteous anger and vivid desire—devoured everything Julia had offered, and then purposely, unfeelingly, cast her aside.
As his father had cast aside his wife, his children.
He hadn’t lied. He’d been taken by Julia. But he’d also been a very real threat. Something everyone but Julia had understood.
And, by wounding her again, he’d just proven them right.
He lifted her fingers from his cheek. “Be well, minx.” He tenderly kissed the back of her hand. “And forgive me one day.”
With that, he turned on his heel, else he fulfill the very thing that had sent him running in the first place: the destruction of the one person—innocent and good—who’d cared for him without question.
…
Hell and damnation.
Even a seditious inner curse didn’t help.
Absent Rayne’s presence, the room shriveled, just as Julia’s world had shriveled the last time he’d left. One moment he’d been there, glowing, brilliant, alive with a heat so strong tendrils of warmth had penetrated her limbs, joining them, even though they barely touched.
Then, in the next moment, the room and her heart were empty—a rubbish bin which had its contents tossed.
And that’s exactly what Rayne was—rubbish.
She wiped her cheekbones with her palm and then hit the billiards table with a closed fist, jostling the smaller gifts.
Familiar emptiness ached within—stronger now than ever.
Horrible.Unthinkable.How could she—even for a moment—have allowed a libertine with no weapon more meaningful than animal lust to hook her hope once again?
Stupid Rayne and his stupid walk, stupid coaxing voice that made her want things she couldn’t envision or define. Stupid hands. Stupid face. Stupid Southford. Stupid wedding. Stupid gifts. Stupid—
She stood straight and sniffed, frowned, and then sniffed again.
The distinct scent of pipe smoke tickled the bridge of her nose.
“You can come out, now, Farring,” she huffed. “Show’s finished.”
“Unfair, my dear. Unfair.” Farring inched out from beneath the tablecloth and stood up. “After all, I didn’taskto be trapped beneath the table, now did I?Iwas a captive audience.”
She put her fists against her hips. “What were you doing down there in the first place?”
“Hiding,obviously.”
“Hiding from what?”
Farring glanced to the floor and back. “Never you mind. The more important question is, how did you know I was there?”
