“I beg your pardon?Iflirt? I socialize with respectable gentleman while you, you...” she said stepping closer her voice filled with outrage. “You traipse about London withAnne Dinsmoredraped all over you?—”
“Lady Anne Dinsmore is nothing more than a friend.”
“A friend who thinks to slip in your bed.”
“A bed that should be filled with my wife.”
“Why, Rafe Harcrest,” she said sarcastically, “I had no idea you were so particular about your bedmates.”
He stepped closer, looming over her, his eyes and hair seem to flare golden in the candlelight. “When it comes to you, madame, I am most particular.”
She stared defiantly up at him. “Why?” she demanded.
“Because I love you, you infuriating little hoyden.”
Alix felt as if she were standing on a ledge that had suddenly given way. Her mouth fell open in silent shock.
“That’s right, sweetheart. I’ve fallen in love with you. I’ve offered you my name and my protection, and now, heaven help me, I’m offering you my heart so that you can throw that back at me, too. Go ahead,” he continued savagely. “Then wrap yourself in your titles and see if they keep you as warm as I can.”
Rafe seized her arms and took her mouth in a kiss that seared, leaving one thought like a standard streaming fiercely in the breeze: He loved her.
Rafe Harcrest loved her.
Alix struggled to free her mouth, to tell him that she loved him, too, but his lips offered no quarter. Instead, they pressed more deeply against hers, his tongue plundering hers, carrying away all thoughts of resistance.
Her arms locked in his grip, Alix strained upwards onher toes, trying to reach him, trying to tell him with her lips and tongue, and all the body she could lay against his, that she loved him, too.
A strangled groan from the floor caused Rafe to push her away, not harshly but resolutely.
“Send for Ginny,” he said hoarsely, “and tell her to bring her home remedies with her.”
Alix cast him a bewildered look, but did as he asked.
Several moments later Ginny appeared,disheveled as if she had just fallen out of bed, a mobcap hastily thrown over her curls. She was accompanied by an oddly dressed footman. Even in her distracted state, Alix couldn’t help noticing that his jacket was too large and his britches were too tight. When he stepped into the candlelight, she realized the footman was Jervis.
“But how?’ she began.
“I’ve had you followed,” Rafe said curtly. “Ever since Jervis recognized Lamartine as the man who was waiting for you that night we broke into your mother’s apartments in Paris.” Rafe nodded toward the figure on the floor. “Jervis noticed him skulking about Lady Melbourne’s several days ago. We figured he was up to something, but we weren’t sure what until this afternoon.” His eyes moved to her swollen cheek and neck. “I didn’t think he’d go away easily.”
Alix sank down onto the bed.Wandering about Vauxhall at night unattended,he’d said earlier and she understood that he’d been there tonight. It occurred to her that she might have raged against him for spying on her, but the fight had gone out of her. “You recognized him,” she repeated, confused.
“I didn’t know his name until today, but yes, I recognized him. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to frighten you with my speculations.” He paused. “Perhaps I was wrong.”
Alix knew it was as close as he would get to an apology. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Alix,” he said sharply; she looked up at him. “Jervis and I are going to take Lamartine with us. Ginny will help you into bed.”
“Ginny,” he continued, “Perhaps you should tell the household that your mistress is ill and does not wish to be disturbed.” His eyes flickered to Alix’s cheek. “You might say that she fainted and struck her cheek on the desk.”
Jervis, who’d bound Lamartine’s mouth with a soiled handkerchief, untied his legs and pulled the battered Frenchman up on his feet. Retrieving a hat from the floor, he placed it atop Lamartine’s lopsided bagwig. “Shoo, Monsieur, now I understand why you wear that awful excuse for a wig.” He chortled. “If I went around getting hit on the head with candlesticks and inkstands and the like, I just might get me one for protection, too.” Grasping Lamartine firmly by the arm, Jervis pushed Lamartine out the door into the hall. Rafe took one more look at Alix, then followed.
“Rafe wait.” Alix rose and went to an armoire across the room. Throwing open the painted doors, she began rifling through the drawers until she found a familiar set of satin stays. “The titles are still sewn in them,” she said holding them out to him. She looked him straight in the eyes. “I want you to take them.” She nodded towards the door. “So that he won’t bother us again.”
“Are you sure, Alix?” Rafe asked softly.
“I’m sure,” she said. “I understand now that they are not the most important thing I possess.”
A curious light flared in Rafe’s hazel eyes. “Do you trust me Alix?” he asked.
