Lady Camelia’s fingers curled into the fabric of her skirts.
One of her nervous gestures.
“That was out of necessity, not desire,” she retorted, but her voice wavered, and the slight hitch in her breath told him otherwise, fueling the smoldering tension that hung between them like a charged storm.
“I’m not mocking you,” he responded quietly. “I’m trying to understand. If you’re in trouble, I can help, but only if you’re honest with me.”
“Help?” she scoffed, her gaze flicking back to him, bitter and disbelieving. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because I’m still here. I could’ve left you in that alley, let you make a mistake. But I didn’t. Now, talk to me, Lady Camelia. Tell me the truth.”
She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” he pressed, leaning closer. “You’re not the only one who’s experienced hardship.”
Her lips trembled, and for a moment, he thought she might speak, but she held her silence.
Raph sighed, frustration warring with pity. “Speak or not, I’m not letting you go back to that alley.”
Not tonight, not ever.
“If you won’t help, I’ll simply find someone who will,” she declared defiantly.
A visceral image clawed at Raph’s mind: some faceless rogue cornering Lady Camelia in a shadowed alley, his calloused hands yanking up her silken skirts, taking her with crude, thoughtless hunger.
The thought sent a surge of molten rage through him, his heart pounding like a war drum.
His eyes locked onto hers, fierce and unyielding, as if he could erase the phantom violation with the sheer force of his gaze, a possessive edge glinting in their depths.
“You’re going home, where you will sort this situation out with your family in a proper manner.”
Lady Camelia glared at him, but he didn’t mind.
“You’re a tyrant,” she muttered under her breath.
“And you’re a foolish, stubborn woman,” he shot back. “But a brave one, I’ll give you that.”
The carriage swayed, its shadows wrapping them in a cocoon of tense silence. His gaze lingered on her, tracing the defiant tilt of her chin, the rapid pulse at her throat. She let out a small gasp when the carriage hit a bump, and the sound ignited a dark hunger in Raph.
“You don’t need to pin me with your eyes. I’m trapped here,” she said without looking at him.
Raph cocked his head, his eyes remaining on her despite her protest.
“You stare as if I could slip through the cracks of this carriage,” she added, but her blush betrayed her.
“You may try to escape me, but you will fail, little flower.” His words dripped with warning.
Her lips parted, and the bitten edge of her lip gleamed faintly in the dim light. He yearned to taste her again.
“Is that a threat, Your Grace?” Her voice quivered.
“It’s a promise.”
She tilted her chin and rolled her amber eyes as they traveled in silence.
Raph longed to claim this untamed woman, to tease her rebellion into submission with whispers and touches that would haunt her dreams as her clumsy, swollen lips would surely haunt his.
CHAPTER 5
