Page 61 of Sir Durham’s Disarming Asset

He put his arm around her and took her to him. It was not wise. He had spurned her, and she had taken insult from his dismissal of her. But tonight, she needed comfort, and he could not help but give it to her.

In spite of their checkered past, she nestled close and hugged him solidly to her.

“Listen to me,” he said, his lips in her fragrant hair, his desire for her tormenting him body and soul. “I want you to live long and well.”

Something in what he said irritated her. She told him in the way she shot from his embrace and glared at him. “Never fear. I will. I have plans.”

He lacked words.

She slid as far from him as she could get.

They sat in silence for the trip through the City back to Grosvenor Square and Ashley House.

Before they arrived and she left him, he had to bring her to the point that no one else had in that office. “Why did you go to see Cosette Lenoir again today?”

“I had to.”

In that statement, he heard truth. To ask her more would attack her integrity and diminish her. He would never do it. She had to tell him of her own free will. He loved her, taking and demanding what she wanted.

“Please listen to me, Rafe,” she said with iron in her words. “I am assertive. Today, I was reckless. I will not apologize for either. But I will be careful.”

“That is all I ask.”

“Well! Wonderful! I also have guards!” She flourished a hand. “I will be safe.”

“I want you safe and happy.”

“Really?”

“It is why I went to Paris and took you from that cell.”

“You did not know me.” She whipped her face toward him and stared. “Do you rescue ladies all the time?”

He blinked.

“You do. Thank you for rescuing me, Sir Raphael.”

He would have taken her hand.

She pushed his away. “In those ventures, do you also save yourself?”

He sucked in air. His groom opened the door and let down the step.

Her cheeks grew pink with fury. “What is it that drives you onward to do that? What do you prove to yourself? What do you hope for?”

She huffed. Gathering her skirts, she rose and would have left him alone with her questions. But he anticipated her move and made it out first. He would not let her appear on the pavement as a singular target for anyone.

Her questions swam in his head. He hated them. But he knew the answers—and he did not like them. Never had.

This time, however, saving this resilient, daring young woman from torture and death had changed him.

He watched her bang the knocker on the front door and disappear.

Full of the hopeless adoration of her that he suffered, he climbed into his coach and collapsed to the squabs.

For the first time in years, he wondered if he could allow himself the ecstasy and the terror of being in love with a woman who was his very breath.

Chapter Sixteen