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“Sometimes, I really don’t want to go out with him,” she confessed shamefully. “Sometimes, I’m so afraid of giving him a-another reason to leave me that I almost want to limit the time I s-spend with him. Less time m-means less chances to m-make mistakes.”
The words wrenched at Alyssa’s heart. “Oh, my child...” Moving close, she stroked the girl’s head. “Mary, my dear, you don’t have to be so scared. Whatever you may think, whatever he may have said, I know my son. And I know he loves you.”
She shook her head when Mary started to speak. “I speak with a mother’s intuition. He loves you, so please. Don’t give up on him.” Alyssa’s voice caught. “Warren and I have failed him in so many ways. We would have done anything to keep him from suffering in any way, but...we failed. And no matter how we wish otherwise, there are just some wounds that a parent can’t cure. Some wounds are only for the other half of you to heal. And for Rathe, that’syou.”
****
When Rathe came backhome, it was to the sound of laughter. And the most striking thing about it, one which had him temporarily halting in his tracks, was the fact that the laughter came from the two most important women in his life.
Striding towards the sound, he paused at the open doorway when he found his mother and Mary seated facing each other on the sofa, doubled over in laughter.
His mother was dressed in another one of her favorite wrap dresses, her blond hair piled up in an elegant chignon. Like any other day, she appeared so much younger than her actual age, and next to Mary, she could have easily been mistaken as his mistress’ older sister.
His gaze slowly strayed to Mary.
His mistress.
His eighteen-year-old mistress, a girl who professed to love him – and the same girl he couldn’t seem to stop hurting.
In a daisy-yellow dress and with her hair held back by a band, she somehow reminded him of Thumbelina, a tiny pearl of femininity that belonged to him alone. Mary had tears of mirth sparkling in her eyes as she spoke with his mother, but even so, Rathe noticed the faint hint of strain on her lovely face.
Strain that he was the cause of, the duke acknowledged grimly.
Throughout the day, all he could see at work was her face with its fake smile. He had wanted to spend the night away from home, but in the end, he had found himself lured back to her side.
Looking at her now, he realized that it was his first time to see Mary’s face glow since their return. Its startling contrast to how sad she had looked in the past cut him to the quick, making Rathe feel ashamed of his selfishness.
When the sound of laughter trickled down, Rathe saw that the two had finally noticed his presence.
He swiftly strode forward, his heart thudding hard against his chest simply because he felt Mary’s blue eyes following his every move.
Bloody, bloody hell.
How his friends would laugh if they knew his heart was racing for such a reason.
Members of the opposite sex had been staring at Rathe since his cock made a prominent bulge in his pants. All his life, women had fawned over him, and through the years he had begun to view their attention with cynicism. Every bloody one of them had been the same. They had looked at him, and they had seen the Duke of Flanders.
But the way Mary was looking at him now?
His head pounded, his heart thudded, his cock twitched.
She affected every bloody part of his body just with the way love shone so dazzlingly bright in her eyes.
****
Mary watched with amixture of wariness and anxiousness as the duke bent down to press a kiss on his mother’s cheek. His every movement was exquisite, like he had spent all his life taking waltz lessons. The thought had her mentally smiling. Considering that Rathe was a British nobleman and how very traditional his family was, that was more than possible.
Even though she saw him every day, even though she still hurt from his rejection, Mary couldn’t stop herself from catching her breath at the sight of Rathe.
Why was he so incrediblyperfect?The way his hair shone under the light, the classic, chiseled angles of his face, the sculpted muscles of his body...
Too perfect.
So much so that she was scared the duke would one day wake up and realize he was too perfect for her.
Or maybe...it had already happened. Maybe, he already knew he deserved so much better than her?
Her heart stopped beating at the thought, the pain so agonizing she felt close to blacking out because of it.
