Page 30 of The Last Dance You Saved
“Find what you wanted?” I demanded, careful to keep my emotions reined in.
“The night was peaceful until you showed up,” she said, and I knew she didn’t just mean right now on the rocks by the waterfall.
“What does he want with me?” I asked. I felt exhausted by all of it, but I didn’t show it any more than my disappointment that she’d fallen in with my nemesis.
When I risked looking at her, the moonlight showed every expression on her face. Confusion had her brows drawn together, yet she still vibrated with life, glowing from within like a bioluminescent pixie.
She was magnificent. Stunningly beautiful. A dazzling display of pure energy. If I had even one ounce of artistry in me, I’d paint a picture of her here, just like this, and hang it over the mantel in the library. And even though she wasn’t wearing a ball gown or diamonds, she’d easily outshine Great-grandma Beatrice, entrapping whoever saw her.
Chapter Eleven
Sadie
COWBOY CASANOVA
Performed by Carrie Underwood
Rafe’s face was cast in shadowswith the light of the moon shining behind him. I wondered, if I could see them better, if his eyes would be full of the icy disdain he was so good at or if they’d hold the glimpse of hurt and anger I’d caught before he’d schooled his expression earlier. Either way, it disturbed my peace. The intense stare. The emotions—or lack of them—he tossed my way.
He’d been good at disturbing my peace since the moment I’d met him. I’d finally recovered some of it after the confrontation at the house by sitting here, watching the stars twinkle, and listening to the sounds of the wild rustling around me. Now, my emotions were in shambles again, simply because he was sitting a boulder away.
My desire was muddled with uncertainty. I didn’t understand why he thought I was working with Lorenzo to ruin him somehow, and I really didn’t understand how, even knowing he thought the worst of me, my body still craved him. Still wanted those firm, commanding lips to give me the heady rush I’d felt in his penthouse. Wanted the release he’d promised and not delivered.
I could do nothing about my body’s reaction to him, but I could try to change his mind about what was happening with me and my potential cousin.
“I have no idea what Lorenzo wants with you. I have no idea what’s gone on to make you hate each other just like I had no idea you were related to the Harringtons. I’m here for personal reasons that have nothing to do with you.”
He didn’t respond. Not a sound or a scoff or even a heavy inhale, and yet I could tell he still doubted me. After all, if Iwasworking with Lorenzo to destroy him, I’d hardly admit it.
“Look. I don’t know what I’ve stumbled into, but that’s all I’ve done—stumbled into a situation I know nothing about. If I’d known I’d see you again, I certainly wouldn’t have come onto you in the bar or agreed to go with you to your penthouse. I was looking for one night of pleasure. That’s it.”
“I find it hard to believe,” he said, his voice low and deep but not angry. It sounded tired instead, as if he’d just waged a battle, and even though he’d been declared the victor, he’d taken no pleasure or relief in winning it.
“I don’t even understand how you’re here,” I told him. “You said it’s your property, but your name is Marquess not Harrington, right? And after Sunday, I knew you had a daughter, but I didn’t see her. I had no idea she was the girl I saw on the website with Lauren and Spencer. I thought she was their child.”
“Fallon is mine.” His tone brooked no argument, possessive in a way my body responded to all over again. I’d wanted to be his, even if only for one night. “It’s a complicated, long story. The short of it, my brother and I both loved the same woman. He won in the end, but we got my daughter out of it, which was the real prize.”
A love triangle, then. Brothers who’d battled over a woman. Romantic on the page and screen, painful to live with, especially if you were the loser. I couldn’t imagine Rafe losing anything, let alone a woman. I obviously hadn’t met Spencer before he died, but I couldn’t imagine anyone choosing another man over the overflowing power and splendor of Rafe. I was having trouble controlling my emotions and attraction even after he’d been cruel. What would it be like if he’d come at me with love? With the sole purpose of winning me?
It would be nothing I’d be able to resist.
Dangerous. Alluring. Tempting.
Maybe it was good he seemed to despise me suddenly. Maybe this was the only way I’d survive being in the same house with him for a few days. I swallowed hard before forcing myself to focus on the basics, the simple tasks of understanding why he was here and what I could do to make him trust me. “Did you have separate fathers? Is that why your last names are different?”
“We had the same parents. Legally, our last name is Marquess-Harrington, thanks to our mom’s desire to keep her surname. She was an artist at a commune near here, bent on taking the art world by storm and then leaving to travel the globe. But she fell in love with Dad and gave up all her dreams for him. Keeping her name was her way of retaining some piece of herself while losing others.” The words were torn out of him, as if he couldn’t believe he was telling me anything about himself. “But try writing an eighteen-letter, hyphenated last name on your papers in elementary school. It was ridiculous. Spence chose to use Harrington, and I did the opposite. At the time, I told myself it was because it had made Mom sad when he’d chosen Dad’s name over hers.”
There might have been many reasons she wasn’t around anymore, a simple divorce being one of them, but the grief I heard in his voice was the kind that came from real loss. Hearing it in this commanding man who’d seemed so sure, so strong, left compassion burning in its wake.
My voice was gentle when I asked, “What was the real reason you chose her name?”
“Even then, I bucked at following in my big brother’s footsteps.”
I wasn’t sure it was true. I thought the first reason he’d given me was more likely the real one.
Silence settled between us, allowing the rhythm of the night to take over. The water rushing and pounding down from the height. The chirp of the crickets. The whisper of the wind through the trees. I shivered. The combination of the mist from the waterfall dampening my skin and the breeze coasting over it chilled me.
After retreating from the library, I’d barely slipped back into my boots before leaving the house, determined to get air, to put distance between me and the emotions flooding the family. I hadn’t grabbed a flannel or a sweatshirt to put on over my tank. I hadn’t thought I’d need it with the night still warm and tomorrow’s forecast being for more heat.
