Page 45 of Dare to Risk it All

Raphe returned to his room and removed his ruined suit, staring at it gloomily. He could not afford to replace it. Perhaps he could have it cleaned and repaired? He inspected a greasy stain on the elbow of his coat and cast the damn thing to the floor in disgust. God, what a mess.

Walking to the window, he pulled back the curtain, looking out over the gardens about Royle House, glinting in the moonlight. What must it feel like to be Bainbridge, with such wealth at one’s disposal? He battered down a surge of unwelcome jealousy. Bainbridge hadn’t had an easy run either, for all his wealth and his title, and he’d been a good friend. A pain in Raphe’s arse too, but a good friend.

Once upon a time, Raphe had raged against his father and his feckless waste of their fortune. It had made him furious and resentful. Those days were gone, replaced by a weary resignation and a wistful longing for what he’d lost. Their home had not been vast or opulent, nothing to compare to Royle House, or even Rowsley Hall, but it had seemed grand to him when he’d been a boy. He’d been happy there, once. Raphe closed his eyes, attempting to remember his home in better times, but the memory was elusive, shying away as he tried to capture it. He tried instead to imagine Greer there. Would she like it? Perhaps she would think it too small, for it could not compete with the imposing building they were staying in tonight.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against the cold glass for a moment.

“Buck up,” he muttered under his breath.

There was no point in dwelling on the past. The future counted now. What he did next counted now. Resolving to do better, Raphe stood and closed the curtains, stripping off his clothes and pouring water from the jug provided into a basin to wash with. He stoked the fire to take the chill off the room, getting the flames leaping and then returned to the basin with a clean cloth and soap.

“Christ,” he cursed, sucking in a breath as the cloth swept over a livid bruise where Plumpton’s large friend had hit him repeatedly in the ribs.

Peering into the mirror on the wall, he noticed he had a black eye and a bruise on his jaw. Well, what a charming sight he made. What perfect husband material. He gave a bitter laugh. A further inspection of his person revealed a large bruise on his hip, a trail of smaller interconnected bruises blooming over his back, and a colourful boot print on his left thigh. Everything hurt. Steeling himself, he carried on with his ablutions, doing his best to ignore the pain of various minor hurts.

“Oh, my!”

Raphe jolted, dropping the cloth in the basin with a splash and turning around. He was so stunned by the sight of Greer in his bedroom that he didn’t react at all. He just stood frozen in place, staring at her.

Even in the dim candlelight, he could tell she’d gone a startling shade of scarlet before she averted her gaze, staring determinedly at the carpet.

“I b-beg your pardon,” she stammered, the words breathless. “I ought to have knocked, only I heard footsteps behind me, and I didn’t want anyone to see me here.”

“That’s all right,” Raphe replied, though he knew it wasn’t. He was stark bollock naked in front of her, for the love of God, but he was still in shock.

She glanced at him hesitantly, and Raphe knew he ought to cover himself, but the way she looked at him made his heart thud with excitement and masculine pride. Her eyes were wide with fascination, her hungry gaze devouring him and, judging from the way her breath hitched, approval. His cock twitched with interest, reacting predictably to the proximity of the woman he wanted so desperately. Greer’s gaze fastened upon his growing arousal, making matters worse still as her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. To his mingled joy and dismay, he saw she wore a nightgown with only a brushed cotton robe over the top. She was naked beneath that. No corset. No acres of petticoats.

Behave, Raphe, you dog.

“Oh! You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, moving towards him.

“No, don’t!” he croaked, holding out a hand to stop her. If she touched him, things were going to go downhill fast, and he’d promised himself he was leaving, that he wouldn’t do any more damage than he already had. Reaching out, he grabbed his dressing gown from the bed and shrugged it on, covering himself.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he snapped, though he wasn’t angry with her, only with himself for his appalling behaviour.

“I know,” she said hesitantly. “But I wanted to explain and… and to thank you, Raphe, for what you did. I knew you were good and honourable, but tonight—oh, you were marvellous!”

Before he could stop her, she had crossed the room and flung her arms about his waist, holding on tight. Raphe froze, too aware of her warm body against his, the softness of her breasts cushioned against him.

“Greer,” he said helplessly, staring down at her. “You must go.”

She shook her head, holding on tighter. “No. If I go, you’ll leave.”

Raphe stilled. “What—?”

She looked up at him, her green eyes seeming to read his thoughts as easily as if he’d printed the words upon his skin. “You think you caused a dreadful scandal, that Rothborn will be furious with you, and so you’ll go away and try to find some way to make amends, but it will take years before you’re satisfied, and I don’t want to wait that long. I want you, just as you are, and I don’t care if Rothborn approves or not, but I cannot believe he would have acted any differently than you did tonight, and so I shall tell him.”

Raphe could do nothing but breathe, there were too many feelings careening about in his chest and he did not know what do to with them all. When she had faced the crowd, risked ruining herself in front of the entire bloody ton to defend him, something had happened, something profound and unchangeable. His arms went around her, holding her to him, and she fit as if she had always been there, by design or destiny.

Raphe closed his eyes and let out a sigh, uncertain if it were of relief or resignation. This was not infatuation. No amount of self-delusion could keep denying it. He was not merely besotted with this vivacious, madcap, reckless girl. He was falling for her, hard and fast and with no net to catch him. Strangely, he wasn’t sure he wanted a net. For once in his life, he needed someone to be worthy of, someone who belonged to him alone. Why Greer had chosen him he could not fathom, but as Bainbridge had said, he was a selfish devil. She might be able to do better, but he couldn’t, so he’d work far harder than a worthier man to make her happy.

“Don’t go,” Greer whispered.

Raphe settled his chin upon her head, cherishing the moment, the feel of her in his arms.

“I won’t go.”

She let out a breath, relaxing in his embrace.