Page 77 of In Want of a Wife
“I figure we can pack up and leave in an hour. Will you be ready?”
Lily flattened herself against the mattress and blew out a long stream of air. This had been her plan, and what a fine mess she had made of it. Had she truly saved herself as she had intended?
Rafe sat on the edge of the bed and traced his hand up and down her back in light strokes over the sheet. She shut her eyes tighter as her body responded, craving his skin against hers.
He leaned down and whispered, “I brought something to eat, Lily.”
Breaking her fast was the furthest thought from her mind at the moment. The stubborn man knew what he was doing by the soft laugh that followed.
“I don’t understand what is so funny.”
“Lily Abrams, you are a very practical woman. I admire that about you. And I would also like to point out that you are hiding beneath a sheet right now instead of facing the day. It’s very unlike you.”
“People change, Rafe.”
He guffawed, then peeled the sheet back to reveal her face. She wished desperately he hadn’t as soon as his hazel eyes met hers.
None of this was right.
“Thank you for thinking of me, but I am not hungry.”
He worried his lip, then reached out and ran his hand over her hair. She nuzzled against his touch.
“We must go,” he whispered at last.
Any protest within her withered. She recognized he was right,knew it deep within her, and yet she felt them making their goodbyes in a tiny hundred ways.
She rolled onto her back and snaked her hand up his neck, pulling him closer. How she loved the feel of his thick black hair in her hands. How she loved the way her perpetually cold hands warmed as she touched his body as if he woke her up to the world after years of sleeping. How she loved the gold flecks in his eyes, and the way he studied her as if he didn’t want to let go either.
“Kiss me, Rafe. For a little while until I forget about the sunshine.”
But almost two hours later, when Lily climbed into the carriage, dread ballooned in her chest. Rafe had taught her how to seek pleasure for herself, and now she would go and marry.
His brother.
“Is everything well?” he asked, settling into the carriage beside her.
“Of course,” she lied, grabbing a book from her bag to read. She felt as if she might be sick. Or worse, she might cry.
She despised crying.
There was never a promise between them. It would always come to this end, but the trouble was that Lily didn’t wish for it to end. She didn’t want to leave Rafe and certainly didn’t wish for him to leave. Either to London or farther if he took a new post. It didn’t much matter.
Except this wasn’t right.
He rested his head against the wall of the carriage. “It will all work out, Lily.”
She shut her book with a sigh, glancing over to assess Rafe. He was so sure of everything, so sure of himself, and so ignorant that her heart was breaking mile by mile as they grew closer to Cliffstone Manor.
“Right, because it must.”
“Exactly.”
Lily wasn’t sure how she could love someone so much and yet want to chuck a book at his head at the same time, but she did at that moment. She only wished it were a bigger book.
How would she face Henry knowing what had just happened withRafe? Keeping Rafe a secret felt wrong, even if being honest meant losing his brother.
She attempted to read but couldn’t. She attempted to make notes in her manuscript but couldn’t focus long enough. It didn’t help that her stomach was sour, and an edging fear sank into her bones. Her heart raced, and her palms were clammy.
