because of what I can do for them. What I wish often becomes truth easily enough.”
Five years. Five years since he had touched a woman. Longer since he’d had sex with one. There had been no one else from the moment he’d met her. And he’d held back out of deference to her innocence.
Now it had been five years since he had touched her.
“I can make you want me,” he said.
And he hated that, for the first time in years, he doubted himself. Because as certain as he was of a great many things, he could not be certain that she would want a scarred, blind man in her bed.
“What exactly are you proposing?” she asked, her words cool.
“I’ll make it very clear. I don’t care what you’ve been doing for the past five years. I don’t care that you married Stefan. I don’t care what you do tomorrow, for that matter. I care about tonight. Tonight, I want to make sure we finish what is between us. Tonight. I want you in my bed.”
He jerked back when trembling fingers touched his lower lip. The shock of it immobilized him. It had been so long since he had been touched. So he stood, absolutely still as she traced his lower lip, his upper lip, mimicking what he had just done for her. She traced his jaw, and then moved her fingers featherlight down the side of his neck, where they came to rest on his pulse.
“Unless you’re afraid of me,” she said, “then it appears I still have the same effect on you that I once did.”
He held her chin, keeping her still. “That may be. But one thing has changed. I do not love you, Charlotte. Quite the opposite. If I take you to my bed, you will be giving yourself to a man who hates you. Though, I wonder if that matters? Because it certainly doesn’t matter to me. I find that I want you regardless.”
“One night?” And this time, a slight tremble worked its way into her words.
“Just one,” he responded.
She let out a long, slow breath that echoed in the corridor around them. “Okay. One night.”
CHARLOTTE WAS CRAZY. She supposed that was what years in isolation would do to a person. Not that she had ever been isolated truly. She had made friends wherever she had gone, but it was always on the internal understanding that she wouldn’t be in one place for long. And, of course, she had been unable to share the truth behind her circumstances, no matter how wonderful her new friends had seemed.
It was too dangerous for them. Too dangerous for her.
That always put distance between herself and her friends, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t there.
But her old life—no matter how far she ran from it—always had claws in her. She had spent five years looking over her shoulder. Five years fearing that one day her father’s men, or Stefan’s, would show up at the door of her home, or one of the shops that she worked in. Five years living abroad, traveling from place to place. Hiding.
But now her father was dead. And the last remaining claw stuck deep into her flesh was Rafe. Yes, she had come to London tonight to catch one last glimpse of him before moving on. But perhaps, this was better. Perhaps, this was what she needed.
She had been prepared to give him her virginity five years ago. He was the man she had meant for it. Perhaps, it was fate. No matter what the ensuing years had brought.
Yes, Rafe had hurt her. His abandonment had wounded her deeply. But, in the end, there would have been nothing he could have done for her. And she could not have gone back to him while her father lived.
If her father had known where she was, he would have come for her. And he certainly would have killed Rafe.
Her fantasies of him had been wound around anger, grief and sadness for the past five years. And, yes, she had blamed him for some things. In the dark of the night, when she lay there, feeling like there was a heavy weight resting on her chest, she had internally raged at him for not saving her. For not climbing the tower and carrying her away with him. Off to live in a forest somewhere. Where mice and birds would build them...a house or something.
Not a care. No contact with the outside.
But this was the real world. It wasn’t a fairy tale, and she knew that none of that was actually possible.
It made for a lovely fantasy. But in the end, she’d had to escape the tower on her own. In the end, it had been up to her to save herself. Bringing anyone with her would have only put them in danger.
So, it didn’t matter that Rafe had left. It was better. Better for him.
And she still hurt when she thought of him.
So maybe this was what she needed to do. Maybe this was the grand letting go that she required. Maybe. Just maybe.
Whether this was the road to salvation or perdition, she imagined it remained to be seen. Either way, she was on it.
In his limousine.
It had been a great many years since she had traveled this way. Even tonight, dressed in a gown that had cost her entire savings, she had taken a cab.
She hadn’t worried much about her savings, because she would come into her money in the next week or so. And tonight was supposed to be a strange fantasy. Or really, the last chapter on a life she had never chosen to live in the first place. That she wanted.
She tightened her hold on her clutch purse, staring straight ahead, the city lights flashing in her face as they drove.
Rafe pressed a hand to her shoulder. “Just checking to make sure you were still there.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that you thought I had gone.” As if she was going to silently fling herself out onto the London streets and tuck and roll in her beautiful red gown.
“No,” he said. “I can hear you breathing. I can almost hear your heart beating. Tell me, Charlotte. Are you nervous?”
“I told you I was,” she said. “I told you I was frightened.”
“You are not frightened. You know I won’t harm you. I had a great many chances to do that. A great many times when I was alone with you, and I still possessed my sight. When I could have done anything to you, and by the time you had screamed it would’ve been too late for your father’s guards to rescue you. I would say that with your father gone you have absolutely nothing to fear from me. Any leverage that you might have been has long since ceased to be.”
What a strange thing. The introduction of the thought that he might have harmed her back then to escape working for her father. Or that he might have threatened to harm her. It had never occurred to her then. Never occurred to her that he might be using her. Because she had been so young. Because she had trusted him implicitly.
But he hadn’t harmed her or held her hostage then.
And, in order for him to wish her harm now, it would have to be personal. He would have to want some kind of revenge against her. And for what? He was the one
