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“I’ve just…I’ve just never been able to shake it from my mind. The horror of what he did.”
The rage boiling his blood almost wouldn’t allow him to speak and his voice came out rough, unrecognizable to his own ears. “I am sorry he did that to you, Vic.”
Not that the sentiment was adequate. He was more than sorry. He was infuriated that his father did this to her—ever set his hands on a nine-year-old girl and threatened her. Apparently, he didn’t keep his monstrous tendencies confined to his son.
If his father were alive, he’d strangle him himself, watch the life drift out of his eyes and not so much as blink. No, that was too good. Flaying him alive would be better.
He’d tied Victoria up. Made her think she wasworthless.
“You don’t need to apologize for him, Rafe. The son is not the father. Don’t give away the first apology you ever utter in his name.”
“Someone has to damn well apologize.”
She shook her head against his chest. “It wasn’t your fault. But this, this helps—that you hold me against this. And that you understand the legacy of bloodlust that he left behind him.” Her face shifted upward, her fingers lifting up to trail along his jawline. “I’m trusting you, even as I know I shouldn’t. Even as I feel like that stupid nine-year-old girl that will believe anything that is told to her. I’m trusting you, so don’t let me down.”
That she was here with him, believing in him after he’d admitted to intending to use her as a pawn just as his father did was nothing short of remarkable. And unnerving. A testament to how much she did genuinely trust him. Care for him.
All things he wasn’t worthy of. Yet she was here. Leaning into him, clutching him like he was the only man in the world deserving of her trust.
His lips dipped, pressing to her brow for a long second, inhaling all that she was, honey and spice with hints of lemon, swirled with the uniqueness of her own scent. “I swear, I won’t let that happen.”
Now he just had to make good on that oath.
Empire be damned.
{ Chapter 24 }
“I have something for you.”
Dragging off her pelisse, Victoria draped it over the back of the chair in the newest coaching inn and looked up to Rafe entering the room, excitement shining in his dark brown eyes.
After a better meal than they’d had the last two days travelling, he’d left the room to return their platters to the kitchen of the coaching inn, but he hadn’t had this excited energy flowing about him when he’d left the room.
That was the thing she’d discovered about him. When he didn’t have that cold façade locked in place—and he always did around everyone but her—he was almost like a little child, the smallest thing about her pleasing him. Usually, those fleeting moments sent a wicked gleam into his eyes and his hands on her body soon followed.
Not that she minded in the slightest.
The man was sin and torture in the most delicious body, hard in all the perfect places under the soft of her hands, and he was equipped with the most wandering tongue that held no shame or embarrassment and could never quite get enough of her skin.
But the current enthusiasm running through him was different. He’d strode into the chamber, his left hand behind his back with a lopsided grin on his face.
Moving across the room, he stopped in front of her, but her gaze stayed locked on his suspiciously hidden hand behind his back.
Her fingers quickly worked down the front row of buttons on her walking dress—she’d chosen this outfit specifically for the straightforward ease of clothing herself without a maid—and she stepped out of the fabric and draped it atop her pelisse.
Left in only her chemise and short stays, she gave him a wicked smile. Whatever surprise he had for her, he’d better hope it entailed dragging the thin fabric off her body.
“What is it?”
He pulled his hand from behind his back, presenting it to her. In the middle of his hand sat a heavy iron padlock.
A smirk lifted the corners of her lips. Not what she was expecting, but if he wanted her to lock him up and do delicious things to his body, she would happily service the desire.
Her look lifted to his face. “You charmer, you brought me a padlock.”
“I did indeed.” His mouth quirked to the side. “I’m going to teach you how to pick it.”
She let out a confused chuckle. “Pick it? What makes you think I don’t know how to pick a lock?”
