It was several minutes before Daphne floated back to reality from the haze in which the only thing that existed was her husband’s body and the way he made her feel. Rafe was still hovering over her, pushing the tendrils of hair from her face and kissing her mouth in that sensuous way of his.
“Tell me something,” she said.
“Anything, my love.”
“Why did you pick Thomas Grey as my name?”
“So I could call you Grey, of course.”
She blinked. “But why?”
“Because of your pretty eyes.”
Daphne couldn’t help her smile. “Is that so? I never suspected a thing.”
“Of course you didn’t.” He kissed her forehead.
He moved to the side, taking her with him, and Daphne traced a finger along his muscular chest. “But it’s not as if I’m perfect. It’s as you said. I’ve always had my family fix everything for me. That won’t happen again. From now on I intend to handle everything myself. Starting with telling Julian that we’re married and we intend to remain that way. I can handle things myself.”
Rafe rested his chin on the top of her head. “You proved that you can handle things yourself when you were abducted, when you stowed away on the boat, when you stood up to me and my stubborn refusal to see that I needed you, and finally when you held those men at gunpoint. Well done, Grey.” He kissed the top of her head.
Daphne tipped her head back and smiled up at him. “I told them I’m a crack shot.”
Rafe snorted. “I’m glad they didn’t ask you to prove it.”
“So am I. I’d already thrown the only knife I had. I’m glad you and Salty and Grim came soon after. I needed you, too.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “We need each other, love. You’ve always been there for me when I’ve needed you. I learned that today.”
“And that you cannot live the rest of your life with the guilt about Donald,” Daphne added.
“That, too.” He hugged her close. “I’m certain Upton will be pleased to hear that he was correct.”
Daphne wrapped an arm around Rafe’s shoulder. “I learned something today as well.”
“What’s that?”
“That being the opposite of tall isn’t such a curse after all. I’ll never complain about it again. Michel’s knife sailed entirely over my head.”
He squeezed her to him fiercely. “Thank God you’re short. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d been hurt.”
“Yes, I suppose I must be grateful for it now. Even if it does make getting things down from the top of the wardrobe difficult.”
Rafe’s laughter filled the room. “You are adorable and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. “I love you, Daphne Cavendish, my wife.”
Daphne sighed and kissed him back. “And I love you, Rafe Cavendish, my husband.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
One week later The Earl of Swifdon’s town house, Hanover Square
With Cass and Lucy’s help, Daphne had managed to arrange another ball at her brother’s town house. They’d planned it before she’d left to find Rafe on the sloop. Dressed in a bright pink gown with a matching topaz necklace glimmering at her throat, she stood at the top of the stairs waiting for Pengree to announce her to the crowd inside the ballroom just beyond the double doors. She pressed a gloved hand to her middle where her insides quaked with nerves.
“I feel as if I’m going to be sick,” Daphne murmured.
