Page 67 of RAKEish

“Darling, you’re beyond fashionably tardy,” Wendy said, her voice cutting through the conversation. “You’re rudely behind schedule, and our Luxury deserves better. Especially from a man who’s been two-timing her all day long.”

Lux felt every pair of eyes at the table urging her to demand the respect she was due.

“You’re right. She does,” Scott said with a grimace. “Doc, I’ve procured a table for two over there.” He pointed to the opposite side of the room. “If you’ll just give me a chance, I’ll explain everything.”

Lux stood. “Thank you all so much for keeping me company this evening,” she said to the Manhattan Knitters, before tucking her hand in the fold of Scott’s arm and allowing him to guide her away, the warmth of his touch a bittersweet contrast to the rehearsed coldness of her impending speech. “Where’s your friend?” she asked, only to be interrupted by a waiter.

While Scott ordered a bottle of wine, Lux casually memorized him—the tilt of his head, the promise of his smile, the depth of his gaze. These were details she could tuck away deep in the sanctuary of her heart. Remnants of a love not meant to be.

CHAPTER 22

Scott gathered his thoughts as he poured the wine, while Doc sat across the table, studying him like he was a bug pinned to a board as part of a science project. “I take it you’ve been watching the news today,” he said, handing her a glass. “And you’re aware of the latest rumors that I am party to an arranged-marriage contract back in Shiretopia.”

“Are arranged marriages really a thing?” she asked stiffly.

“They are in Shiretopia.” He could only imagine how little she thought of him at this point. He’d done exactly what she was afraid all men eventually do…leave a woman for another. She must view him as a complete shit, believing he’d slept with her last night while willingly betrothed to a woman back home whom he’d planned on meeting at the airport this morning. “I owe you an apology for not telling you about her.”

She snorted. “You owe me nothing. We’re not an item. We had a one-night stand. Nothing more. If you owe anyone an apology, it is your bride-to-be.”

“You’re wrong. We have an understanding.”

Doc narrowed her eyes. “An open relationship?”

He swallowed. “Doc, return to Shiretopia with me, and I’ll explain everything.” The request was unplanned and selfish. Yet, he allowed it to hang between them.

Doc’s laugh, when it came, was short and harsh. “Why would I do that?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not in the fucking least.”

He opened his mouth to explain, but no words spilled out. Hell, he wasn’t sure what the answer was.

“Forget it,” Doc said. “Your why doesn’t matter, because I have no desire to attend your nuptials to an open marriage.” She did air quotes around the last two words. “And then allow you to set me up as your tart on the side.”

The pain in her voice gutted him, and he reached out, hovering his hands over hers, waiting for a sign it was okay to touch her. “I want you to return to Shiretopia with me because last night wasn’t just a moment—it was meaningful.”

She pulled her hands back and picked up her glass. “How can that possibly be when your heart doesn’t work?”

“Because long story short, last night, you cracked something inside of me.”

She gave him a what-the-fuck look. “I’m going to need the long story,” she snapped. “The short version makes zero sense. Unless you’re telling me I cracked your penis and it has fallen off. That would make total sense and let me just be the first to say…I told you so.”

He groaned. “Damn it, Doc. My cock is fine. What I’m trying to say—and failing at miserably—is that even though I’m not capable of love, if I could, you’re the person I’d want to give my heart to.”

“That’s pretty and all, and just might make some women swoon at your feet, but your heart doesn’t work, so your words mean jack.”

“Not jack. Last night, being with you caused a crack in my heart which allowed my soul to slip out.”

“I’m to believe rakes have souls?”

“Of course we have souls. And you have a soul. And I believe our souls have mated, and that’s why I feel what I’m feeling toward you. Just like what happened when Father courted Mum.”

She glanced down at her wine. “And how many times have your ancestors used that particular line on women over the years?” While her words were blasé, the thickness of her voice told him she wasn’t as unmoved by his words as she’d like for him to believe.

“I deserve your skepticism, but it’s true. It’s like every minute I’ve spent with you has chipped away at the curse holding my heart hostage and last night, you cracked it.” He reached out, placed his hand under her chin and raised it so he could see into her eyes. They were stormy with emotions as she stared mutely at him. When a tear fell down her cheek, he wiped it away. “You’ve disrupted my status quo, and I’m not mad about that.”

She sniffed. “Let’s say I believe you, which I don’t, but if I did, you still haven’t said why you want me to return to Shiretopia with you.”

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