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He said finally, “At the beginning it was my primary motive—revenge, that is. Then, as the years passed and I saw that I was indeed making a difference, that what I did actually saved British lives, and in some cases changed the outcome of a battle or the fate of a town, well, my revenge motive lessened its hold on me. I believe it was Francis Bacon who said that revenge is a kind of wild justice. I eventually just let it go. I was finally able to admit to myself that I enjoyed the danger, the matching of wits between me and the enemy, the challenge. But back to you, Victoria. If I hadn’t been such a bloody fool on our wedding night, would you truly have told me about your leg?”
“Yes, of course. I was about to. It’s true that I was afraid, terribly afraid that you wouldn’t want me after you saw me. As for telling you before we wed, I knew I should, but I also knew that I wouldn’t. Much too much a coward. I was too convinced that if I did, you would refuse to marry me.”
“You’re a fool, my girl. You aren’t exactly hag-ridden, you know. Haven’t you ever really looked in a mirror?”
“Certainly. But that hasn’t much to do with anything. One is born with looks or one is not. It has nothing to do with what’s really important—one’s character or one’s morals or how one deals with others. I thought that you had grown to like me, but I was nearly certain that you didn’t like me quite enough for such a revelation.”
“I did like you and I still do, for that matter.”
“But now? Really? Now that you’ve seen me?”
He turned to look at her. “Face me, Victoria. Now.”
She stalled.
“Now, sweetheart. Look at me.”
She obeyed him.
“Do you think I could be such a silly ass of a fellow? Such a shallow human being?”
“You’re not shallow. It’s just that I didn’t know. I don’t know. I haven’t been around all that many men, you see. I think Damien would hate the ugly scar on my leg, and I don’t think he would try to hide his revulsion. What is more, you are perfect. And I am not. You’re far more a beautiful man than I am a beautiful woman. It is rather a travesty to mate the unwhole with the whole.”
He gave her a long, emotionless look, then waved a negligent hand to send a fly buzzing away. “A travesty—perhaps you’re right about that. It would appear then that you took me in. False pretenses, Victoria, I believe a solicitor would say. You should have bared your leg exactly three days before we were wed and allowed me the opportunity to cry off. But you didn’t. You wed yourself to me knowing full well that you were taking me in. And now I am well and truly tied to you.”
She said nothing. A single tear trickled down her cheek.
Rafael waited a long moment, then said quietly, “You’re an utter fool, Victoria. No, I hope I’m not a shallow man. I think you and I will pay a long overdue visit to the Seawitch. I would like you to meet Blick, my physician. Should you mind a doctor looking at your thigh?”
She would, but all she said was, “What would he do? What could he do?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion, but Blick has used many odd-named plants from the most godawful places imaginable. You will like him. And let me make this very clear, Victoria. I don’t want you to see Blick because he could perhaps make your leg look better. I’m hopeful that he has a remedy that can lessen your pain when you strain your leg. I don’t care how your leg looks. I care only about this awful pain. Now, why don’t we go to Falmouth tomorrow? I do need to see how things are progressing, and my men will have the pleasure of meeting my beautiful, stubborn, willful wife.”
She gulped down a half-laugh, half-sob. “I’ve been so very afraid.”
“There was no need, of course, but how could you have known that? Particularly after my absurd attack on you on our wedding night.” He sighed, then reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. She snuggled against him, her arms twined about his shoulders, her head pressed against his throat. “Remember our extremely satisfying, er, mating on the kitchen floor at Honeycutt Cottage?”
He grinned over her head, knowing she wouldn’t say a word.
To his surprise, he heard a very small, “Yes.”
He waited a moment, then said, “I should like to take you back to our Pewter room, strip you as naked as the day you emerged from your mother’s body, and love you in the full sunlight from our windows. What do you think of that idea?”
What she felt was a tremor deep inside her. He knew that she would want him, want him with all her loving nature. “You want to know what I’m going to do to you? Certainly you do.” She responded to love words, he knew now, delighting in how the words fired her own imagination, making her wild for him. Only for him. He kissed her earlobe, then whispered in her ear.
“What?”
“Once I have you naked, I want us to still be standing. I want to lift you, have you wrap your beautiful legs around my hips. I want to come deep inside you and—”
“But that must be impossible, surely.”
“Wait and see, Victoria.”
Rafael carried her once again in front of him on Gadfly’s back. Every few minutes he nibbled on her throat, kissed her mouth, moved his hands higher until they touched the undersides of her breasts. He was driving her distracted, and he knew it. He smiled and kissed her nose. And then he spoke to her softly, into her ear, telling her what he was going to do once he was deep inside her.
Victoria was wildly aroused by the time they returned to Drago Hall.
Damien silently watched the two of them as they swiftly walked the length of the entrance hall and up the staircase. They didn’t see him. They’d seen no one. They were aware only of each other.
