Page 23 of The Truth Serum
“Some things cannot be fixed,” she said. “You know that.”
He did. And yet he wanted to try. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, catching the tear that hovered at the edge of her lashes. She blinked at the gesture, as if surprised that she was crying. He wasn’t. He knew that her emotions were often close to the surface, and that she hated that about herself. Her family ridiculed any emotional display.
He pulled his thumb back and kissed the wetness there.
“Don’t hold back your feelings from me,” he said.
He saw her jaw firm and then she struck, giving him a fast, whipping slap across his cheek, hard enough that his head twisted to the side, and loud enough that the sound echoed in the room. And it was painful enough that he automatically readied himself for a life or death fight.
Then he strangled the thought. He wasn’t being chased by Napoleon’s men. He wasn’t being beaten by five thugs. He wassafe in a ducal household. And she was no match for him physically.
Emotionally, however, she could slay him. Indeed, she just had.
“I never meant to hurt you,” he said. Then he gave her a wan smile. “Do you want to hit me again?”
She didn’t. Indeed, she appeared to be shocked and appalled by her own behavior.
“Curl your hand into a fist. Leave your thumb outside. And punch through the knuckle of your index finger. That will save the rest of your hand.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “So sorry.”
If there was more, she didn’t get to voice it. Neither did she get to hit him again as her brother burst through the front door, followed quickly by Ras.
“Get your hands off my sister!” Fletcher bellowed.
Nate immediately lifted his hands, showing that they were nowhere near his sister. He also stepped protectively between Fletcher and Becca. “Your sister is fine.”
“You keep her name out of your filthy mouth!”
It was part of his own personal perversion that those words conjured a very pleasing image. But he knew better than to say it. “Fletcher, your sister is well able to protect herself.”
“Thank God!” Fletcher responded as tried to grab Becca. He couldn’t reach, but he could glare at the red mark on Nate’s face. “I hope she hurt you,” he hissed. “Come along Rebecca. I should never have trusted that this reprobate would remain decently upstairs.”
“Fletcher—”
“Don’t say anything now. It will only further upset you.” He turned to Ras. “You see now, don’t you? You see the insult he is? He is a damage to yourself and all decent people.”
Ras didn’t answer. His gaze was dark and troubled, especially when it landed hard on the stinging handprint on Nate’s face.
“It’s not what it seems—” Nate began.
Ras interrupted. “Lady Rebecca, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said as she stepped around Nate to go to her brother’s side, but Miss Petrelli held out a hand. He hadn’t even noticed her there, but she had been close by. No doubt ready to interfere if she were needed.
“Lady Rebecca,” she said. “This is not at all what I planned, and I most sincerely apologize. I hope you will consider speaking with me again. At my cousin’s house. Away from…” She gestured to everyone. “Whatever this was.”
Fletcher didn’t give his sister a chance to respond. “We have no desire to speak with you again, Miss Petrelli. Indeed, I sincerely hope—”
“Have a care, Fletch,” Ras rumbled as he crossed to his fiancée’s side.
Fletcher visibly swallowed his next word. Then he lifted his chin. “Good day to you all.” The words were hurled as an insult. Then he glanced at his sister. “Come along,” he commanded.
Becca did as she was bid. She didn’t look back. She didn’t pause to throw him a glance. She didn’t twist just enough so he was in her peripheral vision. If it were possible for a woman’s back to throw up blinders, she would have done it all around her.
And he, as usual, watched her go, unable to talk to her, unable to make up for the blunders of the day or of the last decade. God, what a mess.
Then, to make it worse, when the door finally closed behind them, Ras dropped his hands onto his hips and glared straight at Nate.
