Page 87 of The Rogue’s Redemption

“I want you,” she said, pulling away. “Reid, I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He looked at her for so long she began to wonder if she’d said the wrong thing.

He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. She knew that look, and didn’t like it.

“What is it, Reid? What are you not telling me?”

He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing,” he said. “But this . . . Allie . . . if you could understand how much I want to make you mine. If you could feel what I feel . . .”

Reid looked down and Allie couldn’t help but let her gaze follow his. She could not see beneath his surcoat, but she didn’t need to. She’d felt it, and it no longer scared her.

“I don’t want to wait,” she said.

Reid took a step back. “Allie . . . God, please no. Do not—”

“We will be married—”

“And if your sister does not agree? You said you could live with your parents’ disapproval, but could you live with Gillian’s?”

She did not hesitate this time. “Aye.”

As much as she loved her sister, Allie knew she could not live without this flawed, beautiful, arrogant, fearless man by her side.

He froze. “Do you understand what you’re saying?”

Allie didn’t hesitate. “Aye. Do you?”

Reid swallowed, and for one awful, terrifying moment, Allie thought he’d changed his mind.

“We will be married,” he said, his smile slow and sensuous, as if promising she would not regret this decision.

“We will.” And nothing, or no one, would stop her.

29

Allie had never been so happy.

Last eve, the very opposite had been true, and then Reid had come home unharmed, and it had felt as if the world had opened up to her.

They would say the vows as soon as it could be arranged.

When a knock at her chamber door was followed by the sound of it opening, her first thought was of Reid. But it was Juliette who stuck her head around the door. “May I come in?”

“Of course. I was just coming down to break my fast.”

Allie knew immediately something was wrong. Although it was unusual for Juliette to be here this early in the morn, it was her expression that was most worrisome.

“What is it?”

Juliette sat on the edge of the bed. She spent too long fanning out her gown and smoothing its front, her attention to the material confirming Allie’s suspicions.

“Juliette—”

“A meeting has been called.”

“A meeting?”

“We must talk.” Juliette said, “Sit.”