Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Three days had passed. Lily's trunk was returned, and they were close to the family home in Wales. Three days still, and Rafe couldn't keep his mind off Lily pressed against his chest or the tears she had cried. Or the feel of her hand beneath his. Or the warmth of her body as she rested her head upon his shoulder.

Or the sound of his name on her lips. So sweet, so forbidden.

He was sure she'd been about to kiss him. It was probably for the best she hadn't, but damn it if he wasn't curious what a kiss would be like with Lily Abrams.

They sat next to each other in the carriage. Lily was reading, sharing every now and then what she was learning. Rafe would pass tarts now and again before returning his attention to the passing countryside. He wished he could read, but the rocking carriage always made it difficult not to toss up his accounts.

Funny that he could sail without ever having an issue.

The sea was in his blood, so his father used to tell him. Some men aren't meant to stay on land.

He wasn't ready to return home. But if Lily was to marry Henry, the family ring needed to be fetched. She deserved a beautiful ring.

"I think I might write to the Royal Society as you suggested yesterday." She reached for the tart he held in his hand, brushing her fingers against his for a moment. It was the quickest of touches, yet it burned him like a branding iron. "Thank you." Lily's eyes met his, and the most beautiful blush rose to her round, full cheeks. "If you don't believe your brother would mind, that is. Father strictly forbade it. I can't tell you how many times I was threatened over even possessing that telescope, never mind using it. Who knew a girl who studied stars was so dangerous to society."

"Lily, your sex holds more power than men care to admit. Of course you are dangerous."

She scrunched her nose, puzzling over his words. "Even so." She bit another piece of her tart, licked her lips, then flipped to the next page in her book as if she hadn't just done one of the most seductive things he had ever witnessed before.

He watched her mouth as she read. He would never admit it, but he loved the way she would worry her lip as she thought over a passage. Rafe wondered what it would be like to feel her teeth gently do the same to his mouth. What would she taste like?

The very thought made him hard. Christ. This was damned inconvenient. He shifted his weight on the bench and crossed his arm against his lap to hide his erection from her. Nothing could happen between them.

Nothing would. He wouldn't allow it, even if his body craved it.

Which it did.

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat and turning his attention toward the window to distract himself. "Your father might have objected, but the Royal Society has a far greater appreciation of the stars that he lacks. I think they will find your current undertaking valuable."

"Do men ever see what women do as valuable?" Lily brushed a few crumbs off the chest of her dress, drawing his attention to her full bust and the way the red fabric of her traveling dress was tailored perfectly to her curves.

Red today, not the many shades of blue she had worn so far. If pressed, he would admit he preferred the blue .

He cleared his throat, then thought of the frigid ocean and Mr. Chapman's horrible gooseberry pie. "The good ones do, yes."

She laughed in spite of herself, her brown eyes sparked with such mirth. "One day you must avail yourself and show me these good men, Rafe. I highly suspect that a request for a meeting to discuss my manuscript will be dismissed. Now, if the manuscript had a male's name…"

"Whoa, whoa," the driver called out.

The carriage suddenly jerked to the right, sped up for a moment, then shuddered to an abrupt stop.

"Rafe?" Lily gripped her book, her eyes wide and full of panic.

He glanced outside. The fog was lifting, revealing the winding stonewalls and deep green fields of Wales he found himself missing far too much, more than he'd like to admit.

"I'm sure it won't be long before we are on our way again," he said, more to himself than Lily. But something didn't feel right. The hairs on his neck stood up, and the same icy shiver that usually rushed through his body before the first cannon fired did so now.

She shut her book and leaned forward, peeking out the window. "Maybe something is wrong with the?—"

A balding man rushed the carriage and ripped open the door on Rafe's side. He bolted upright and leaned forward to shield Lily from the stranger.

"Don't move!" The man's voice was a vicious, low snarl. His upper lip curled, revealing a row of yellow, crooked teeth. A long scar stretched from his right cheek to the bottom of his chin, and he smelled of every tavern between here and London.

Lily gasped, then jumped forward, and squeezed Rafe's shoulders from behind.

The man pointed the gun at Lily. "No screaming, miss."

His heart drummed in his ears as Rafe pulled on a false sense of calm, meeting the man's vacant stare with aplomb.

"Your money and jewelry now. Give it here!"

Rafe motioned with his chin toward his jacket. "May I…?"

"Come on, come on," the man demanded. He looked over his shoulder quickly and staggered back a step. He grumbled, then swung his attention back to Rafe. "Don't think I won't shoot."

That was when Rafe noticed the driver on the ground, tied up. If he and Lily were to escape this, then they must listen without much protest. Rafe would wait for the right moment to catch the man unaware. He quickly reached into his pockets, pulled out what he had for money, twisted off his father's gold ring from his pinky finger, and handed it over to the man, cursing to himself.

What were they to do with no coin for the rest of their journey?

"Now you, miss."

Rafe glanced over his shoulder, silently urging her to do what the man said.

She muttered something under her breath before reaching for her reticule, opening it, and removing what little she had for coin. "Here."

"Now, out," the man ordered. "You first," he shouted at Lily. "Leave out your door and hands up."

"Rafe?"

Her shaky whisper shattered him. He dragged in a deep breath, never once looking away from the man with a gun pointed at his face. "Go on. It will be all right."

She fumbled for the door handle, then tumbled out, scrambling onto the side of the road.

"Over to that tree now. Both hands on the trunk. No moving, no talking."

The man's portly face reddened as he waved the gun in Rafe's face and motioned for him to climb out on Lily's side. He didn't want to put his back toward the man, but he was at a disadvantage traveling with no real weapons beside Lily's not-so-deadly stack of books. And he couldn't chance her being injured from a miscalculated move.

Rafe reluctantly nodded, slowly pivoting in his seat and meeting Lily's wide-eyed panic.

"Move, or I'll leave you bleedin' out on the side of the road and take her with me." The man jabbed the gun into his back.

He would never allow it. Rafe would never allow the man to touch so much as a hair on her precious head .

Rafe quickly climbed out, held up his hands, and approached Lily. "Do as he says, love. Don't move."

"What do we do?" she whispered harshly.

Rafe surveyed the area, not a single house around. And he didn't hear anyone else close by. He had escaped far worse on the open sea, but the difference was Lily hadn't been there.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "We don't want any trouble. Stay calm."

"I will not?—"

"Lily, please ."

He placed his hands on the tree trunk and cursed as the man turned toward the carriage, and Lily bolted forward, racing around him to try to climb onto the carriage seat.

The highwayman grabbed Lily by the wrist and whipped her around, causing her to slip. She screamed, flying through the air and landing with a thud on the ground.

"Ho!" The man waved the gun in the air and fired before diving to thrust the gun against Lily's gut. "If you move again, I'll put a bloody bullet in your gut."

Rafe remained stark still, waiting. He had to time this perfectly, or they would both end up dead.

"Remove the gun from her person. She didn't mean anything by it."

"She sure as hell did. No trouble, I said."

Lily turned her head and glanced at Rafe as she lay pressed to the ground, her eyes filled with terror.

Damn it.

Everything within him went cold before he bounded forward and wrestled the highwayman to the ground. Rafe tossed away the gun into the tall grass, and Lily scrambled backward on her hands and feet.

"Rafe!"

The man's meaty fist connected with his jaw, and he swore for a moment he only saw black before his vision returned, and he punched the highwayman in the nose.

"Lily, stay there, love." Rafe wrestled with the man for a few more minutes before he spotted a second man sprinting down the road toward the carriage with a gun.

This would be how he died.

He remembered having the same thought on that sailboat as the waves grew high and higher, and the sky became black as night.

No, not only him. They both would.

"Lily," he softly cautioned. That same cold shiver chased up his spine.

The second man rushed forward and kicked Rafe in the stomach with his boot. He doubled over before the second man snickered, yanked him upright by the cravat, and punched him under the jaw.

"You bloody idiot. You could have lived if you hadn't…"

Rafe struggled to keep the world straight around him.

He swore the ocean was close by the roar rising in his ears. Or perhaps it was…

He blinked, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"We don't want any trouble," he said again. But Rafe's voice broke, and he swore he was falling, though he was quite certain he was already on the ground. He tried pushing up to his elbows to make sure Lily was safe. He heard her crying.

Because of him. Damn it.

"Take the chit," the balding highwayman ordered, spitting out a rotten tooth. "He tossed my bloody gun."

The second highwayman grasped the pistol in his hand, aiming it at Rafe. "We don't have time. Someone is bound to come soon."

"Fine, toss the driver in the back. We'll dump him down the road later."

"Leave us here," Lily said. "We won't say anything to anyone."

The second man dropped the gun from Rafe and turned toward Lily, darting to grab a handful of Lily's dress and hauling her close by the waist. "He might be right. We should take you. You'd be a bloody good chit to have. Such fire."

They would need to kill him first before he ever let the highwayman take her. Rafe forced himself to sit up .

The balding highwayman snickered and kicked him in the gut again. "No saving the day. Stay. Down."

"Don't touch her," Rafe growled.

"Oooh, then we should definitely take you," the other man threatened Lily. "Must be a good reason he wants to die to protect you."

"Ain't worth it. Let's go," the first man barked, scrambling up to the top of the carriage seat.

The second man sneered, shoving Lily away, then dashed back to the carriage. He struggled to move the driver into the back before he climbed up top. The carriage raced off, leaving Rafe and Lily alone on the side of the road.

Lily remained still as the carriage— their carriage—rattled forward with their driver tied up inside.

It felt as if days passed before it turned around the bend and slipped out of sight. She quickly scrambled to her feet and rushed over to Rafe.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning his head to spit out another mouthful of blood.

"Sorry? For what?" She sank down to her knees and reached out, bracing his face in her palms. She turned his head from left to right, closely examining each bruise and cut. "It's not your fault."

His hand reached for hers, gripping her wrist tenderly. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

Tears burned her eyes. No, she hadn't been hurt. But she just lost her mother's telescope. That loss would not be so easy to overcome.

"I will be fine. You though… are you well enough to stand?"

"If I find them," he threatened, rolling over to his knees to push himself up to stand, "well, they better wish I don't."

Lily didn't have her reticule any longer, but she had sewn some money into the seams of her travel dress. "I have a plan."

"Don't you always?"

For a moment, she swore she saw pride in his eyes.

"I am very fond of plans."

"I am very fond of you, Lily Abrams."

She smiled, her heart fluttering in her chest. "You were just roughed up by two highwaymen, and still, you are charming."

"It's the burden of being a rake."

She rolled her eyes. "You are no rake, Rafe Davies. But you are bleeding, so let's hope there is a village down this road. I need to find you a doctor."

"I am a good enough doctor in a pinch."

"So I've heard."

He snickered. "I will survive. Only a bruised rib or two, a few lacerations on my face… I think." He stopped and turned to her. "Are there any so deep that I would need stitches?"

She tugged his face closer, her thumbs gently gliding across his bruised skin as she examined him. The pit in her stomach grew deeper as he remained stoically silent.

"You have a few deep cuts, but they have all stopped bleeding. I think you will be well…" Her voice trailed off as her breath caught in her throat.

She thought the highwaymen were going to kill him. And even now, with his face securely in her hands, she couldn't stop her arms from trembling.

He reached for her hair, tucking a curl behind her ears as his eyes quickly scanned her face. "Are you sure you aren't hurt? I'm sorry…"

She shook her head. "Rafe, let's find an inn and a doctor, and we will sort this out." She was sure if she remained close to him any longer, they would kiss. And they had enough trouble to deal with without having to sort out what kissing would lead to between them.

A small village waited a few miles down the road. It was a long walk, only to discover a bustling center with carts, lots of stalls with fresh produce, and flowers and ribbons everywhere.

"What's happening?" Rafe asked, surveying everything .

Lily shrugged, missing having something for her hands to hold. The entire walk she had faithfully inspected the side of the road for their luggage, wishing desperately that her mother's telescope had fallen off the carriage.

She had found nothing.

And now she was arriving at a village with nothing but some coin and an injured companion whom she also wished so desperately to kiss. And she was bone-tired from their ordeal.

Several villagers turned to Rafe and Lily before continuing. What a sight they must be.

"I need to think some," she said finally. "Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe I should consider spinsterhood. This all doesn't seem worth it."

"It's a spot of bad luck."

Lily stopped at a pen of clucking hens by a stall overflowing with rocket and broad beans, waving her arms out to her side. "We've nothing. I have…"

Rafe paused, turning slowly on his heels to meet her face-to-face. Well, she was met with the wall of him again. She shivered at the dark blood staining his cravat.

"It's not as if your brother will want a bride who is more in love with the stars than with the idea of keeping house. I have been made aware that is not a desirable quality in a wife."

"Lily."

She cleared her throat and darted her gaze anywhere to avoid Rafe's heated stare.

"Henry will replace the telescope."

With a quick nod, she stepped around the chickens and proceeded down the crowded street. "It belonged to my mother. It can't be replaced."

"I know my brother, and you will be…"

"Fine. Yes, I know." She spun around, walking backward for a moment to continue talking to Rafe. "We have discussed this as well. We will be suitable in that way. He will have a ‘fine' wife, and I will possess a husband who cares little about me or my life. "

A little girl raced around them with a ring of chocolate smeared around her mouth before two smaller boys and puppy chased by.

"Isn't that what you wished for?" he asked over the crowd.

"Yes, of course." She shrugged. "I mean…"

Lily pushed up to her tiptoes, peering over the slowly moving crowd. Several men broke out in a large chorus of laughter. A mother towing along two small children brushed by, her cheeks red as she tried soothing the fussy, wriggling baby in her arms.

She wished only for an inn, only for a moment of quiet right then, suddenly overwhelmed by the noise and the busy village center.

Rafe gently took hold of her upper arm and steered her into a quiet corner beside a tavern. There in the shadows, the air cooled, and she caught her breath even as her heart hammered in her chest.

"They're gone," he said as if reading her mind. "And you're safe."

Of course. She realized that, but her body didn't seem to understand.

Rafe bumped her chin up with his fist, drawing her eyes up to meet his. "My brother wishes for a wife who is kind," he said softly, "who is loving, and who laughs. That is what he needs, to fall in love with living again."

"How do you know?"

He stepped back and winced as he lifted his arm to scratch his temple, darting his glance away from hers. "Because I know."

A sinking realization washed over her, and she couldn't help but smile, watching him squirm as she asked, "And what do you seek in a wife, Rafe?"

"Haven't thought about it." He reached back for her hand and dragged her forward. "Come on, I see an inn down the street."

After inquiring at two inns about vacancies, they were referred to another much smaller establishment on the edge of the village.

An older couple worked in the gardens in front of the home as Lily and Rafe approached.

"Hello," Rafe called out, pushing open the gate at the front of the squat brown house. It leaned toward the road as if, after standing for enough years, it was ready to lie down and rest. Its few windows held thick, wavy glass that somehow held off the late afternoon sun.

"We were wondering if you had any rooms available?"

The older woman turned from weeding and gawked at Rafe, then slowly shuffled to her feet and adjusted her spectacles. "We have a room left. Busy with the festival. What happened to you?"

"Only a room?" Rafe turned to Lily, muttering under his breath. She reached for his hand and squeezed.

"We were robbed a few miles back. All our luggage was stolen, and my…" She looked up at him, taking a big swallow. "My husband is hurt. If we could have a room and a doctor, that would be a great help."

The older man walked next to his wife and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Damn it. Archie and John are at it again. The constable will be none too happy to hear about it."

The old woman clucked. "I'm sorry. If you cannot pay…"

"I can," Lily said.

"It's a small room," the older woman continued, "and there's only one bed."

Lily instantly understood. "We will make do. We are newlyweds, and we just wish to stay for the evening before we can continue on to visit family tomorrow."

"Very well, very well." The older woman wiped her forehead, smearing dirt across her skin. She pointed to Rafe. "You look like you had a rough time of it. Those scoundrels."

"I managed well enough."

Lily stood in the garden, then glanced up to the cloudless sky. Why was it so hot today? This morning had started off so well, and now…

Well now, she was following Rafe inside as the innkeeper gestured wildly around, lecturing them on her rules, and all Lily wished for was some fresh water and a nap. And a doctor for Rafe, even if he insisted otherwise.

She shivered, remembering as fear possessed her the moment the men turned on Rafe, and her one thought that she would lose him.

Although Rafe had insisted against it, the village surgeon did examine him. He could hear Lily pacing outside the door of their shared room the entire time. And something about that made his heart do some funny trick that he thought wasn't funny at all.

It was trouble.

This whole trip had been one giant mistake.

He hadn't planned on liking Lily so much, and he thought he could handle the time they had left together. But after their run in with the highwaymen, it was clear he would ruin everything for everyone else until he made that wrong right.

But they had touched her, and he couldn't fix that. He couldn't erase that fear or pain.

He had failed her.

Just as he had failed his sister.

Just as he had failed Henry, time and again.

He sighed, kicking off the rough linen bed sheet.

"What is it?" Lily sat at the small table by the window, leaning close to read by the candlelight.

"I can breathe, can't I?"

She waved her hand, dismissing him. Probably for the best.

It was an unusually hot, early summer night, and he wished nothing more than for a cool bath and maybe a bottle or two of brandy. Or scotch. Or whatever else he could get his hands on to put the day behind him.

"This is a terrible idea," he grumbled. He swung his feet off the bed onto the rough wood floor. The house was a relic. It was a miracle it was standing. And a small room? He was pretty sure they were being fleeced and were being rented a closet for the evening.

"We can handle one night together."

That irritated him further.

He scratched his jaw, watching as Lily leaned closer to the open window and tugged at her dress, revealing another slip of creamy skin he was sure would be the softest thing he could ever touch with his hands. The waning light cast her in the most beautiful wash of orange. It reminded him of her perfume, and how it was his favorite part of riding with her in the carriage. Well, that and listening to her talk about stars and the sun and every other heavenly body imaginable.

Or the way she always had an errant curl by her ear that stuck out straight to the side.

Or the soft snoring she made when she slipped into sleep as the carriage rocked back and forth, and how she would wake and busy herself as if embarrassed to be discovered. But he loved that moment, that sliver of time where she would sleep and let the world spin around her without needing a plan to sort things out.

Or the way her mouth curled up when she pretended to be annoyed at his jokes.

"Should I order us dinner? What are you doing on your feet?"

"I've bruised two ribs. I am fine to walk. If I have to stay in that bed any longer…"

But he wished to spend longer in that bed, just not alone.

And that was the trouble.

He shuffled over to the washbasin, bent as far as he could, and threw cold water against his face. It was the best he could do in the circumstances.

"You're being a bear again, Rafe."

He straightened, wiping away the drips of water racing down his neck. There would be no substitute for a cold bath with Lily in the room.

"We can't share a bed."

She closed her book and sighed, then dropped her feet to the floor. She flashed a look akin to a disapproving school marm, and good heavens, even then…

Lily tugged at her dress. The small attic room was hot, and the thin fabric stuck to her body. He could see every curve, every line, every spot that begged to be explored. Clearly, he was going mad. Nothing could happen between them. They could be friends at best but lovers?

No, that would go against what he had set out to do.

He had placed that advertisement as a joke against Henry, but he had written Lily with the intention of her becoming his brother's wife. His brother deserved love. That big, empty house deserved a family. And that responsibility certainly was never going to fall to Rafe.

"I'm not a good man, Lily."

She rested against the table and crossed her arms, waiting him out.

"Don't look at me that way."

She laughed, tucking her chin against her shoulder as she tore her gaze away to study the floor. He loved the curve of her cheek. He had a feeling it would fit perfectly in his palm.

"Christ."

He ate up the short distance between them and reached his hand out to the bruise on her collarbone. "They did that to you," he hissed, his hand hovering above hers.

"I am well. I promise."

He tossed his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Damn."

She tugged at his hand. "Rafe."

He rolled his head down to look at her. No, not look at her. He hadn't looked at her for days now. He had studied her, paid attention. And he loved her big brown eyes, and the way they held promise for him when the rest of the world hadn't for some time now.

"Lily, I…" He reached out and cupped her cheek. A perfect fit, just as he had thought. "I can't stay in this room with you. I only want to kiss you and…"

"Then kiss me."

She placed her hand over his and stepped forward, resting her body against his. "But kiss me because you wish to, not because you pity me, not because of this morning… I swear I am?—"

He tilted her mouth up to his and lightly kissed her lips, afraid to press further but wishing so much to do exactly that. She didn't withdraw at his touch. Instead, she pressed against his mouth and matched the movement of his lips, kissing him back softly, tentatively, as if their future did not depend upon this kiss.

As if she hadn't agreed to marry his brother.

But Henry didn't know the truth. And this didn't have to be more than a kiss. Only a kiss.

"Rafe?" she whispered against his lips, drawing back his attention .

"Hmm?" He rested his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shut tight, too afraid to look at her. Lily slid her fingers up over his collarbone to rest at the back of his neck, his skin burning at her touch.

"I want to try again." Rafe cleared his throat. "I can do so much better. Can I show?—"

Lily's lips crashed down on his, robbing him of his words. And it was just as well because the earth must have tilted, and suddenly, everything spun into view, and he felt his feet firmly on the ground as his lips explored hers. And it was the realest, truest kiss he had ever shared with another.

Lily wouldn't let him slip away, not now, not when she was finally seeing a sliver of who Rafe truly was. Even as her heart raced in her chest, she pressed her lips against his.

There was so much to Rafe, and she had been a fool to believe she didn't wish to discover it all. She didn't care about the rest of the journey or what lay ahead, only that his mouth was on hers, searching. And Lily wanted nothing more than to let him continue his exploration.

His touch set her skin on fire, and her body buzzed. It was as if she had swallowed a beehive right along with the honey because it was just as sweet.

Her feet slipped, and she slid to rest her backside on the tabletop. She swept her hands back into his hair and pulled, refusing to let go, refusing to let this madness stop.

He licked the seam of her mouth, then gently nipped her bottom lip. She swallowed a sigh, unsure if it was the summer heat in that small attic room or if she was melting against him. All she knew was that she was burning for him, need pooling between her legs, and she wanted more.

"Just a kiss," he pulled back. "It can only be tonight, here in this room."

She locked eyes with his, her fingers playing at her tingling lips. His hazel eyes were hooded, his shoulders rising up and down.

"A kiss?"

He stepped away and scratched the back of his neck, thinking. She always knew when he was thinking by the two lines furrowed between his dark brows.

It meant trouble.

She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. "It can be more than a kiss. I have never been kissed before, not until now, though I've dreamt of it often enough."

"What else have you dreamt of, Lily?"

She walked her fingers up his chest, then ran her hand back against his strong jawline. Those men had beaten him, and she had been too much of a coward to stop them. And Rafe was hurting, and yet she needed him desperately, too. She needed to know that he was well, that something in this world made sense because for weeks now, nothing had, and she was losing herself in the chaos of it all.

"Two engagements and not one kiss?"

She shook her head.

"Damn fools."

His lips crashed down on hers again, and this time, she not only welcomed his touch but begged for more.

Rafe pressed against her mouth with his tongue, and she opened to him, hooking her arms around his neck. His body was warm and strong against hers, soft where his was…

Lily felt his hard arousal against her middle. Perhaps it was expected for her to be shocked. Society likely wished girls of her breeding to remain knowing very little of the marriage bed.

But this wasn't the marriage bed. This was pleasure that she would seek for herself, on her own terms, with someone who made her feel so irritatingly interested in exploring.

She sighed, breaking their kiss to sip at the edges of that smart mouth of his, down his cheek to the line of his jaw as his hands skated up the length of her body and softly cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Such a soft touch, and yet everything warmed inside of her .

He bent down and kissed her neck, nibbling along the column of soft flesh there.

"Do you like this?" he whispered, then gently stroked his thumb against her nipple. It pebbled hard against the soft fabric of her chemise.

She nodded, melting against him. Melting away as her feet slipped against the floor. He ignited some quiet riot within her, something that could not be controlled. She hated to love it, but she did.

"Please don't stop," she finally whispered.

She braced her body, ready for his rejection. Ready for him to pretend as if this meant nothing. It meant nothing, did it not?

Instead, Rafe moved his mouth over hers again in a drugging kiss as the birds sang about twilight outside their small attic window.

They had pretended to be husband and wife.

They had pretended to be married to share this room with one bed. The same bed that beckoned her now, taunting her to call up some strength within her to summon what she wished for at this moment. Rafe would be an excellent teacher.

And soon they would part ways.

And soon she wouldn't be able to kiss him as she wished.

She moaned at his touch. A kiss would never be enough.

Not with him.

She broke apart from him, stumbling back a step as she held her hand to her lips. The room spun and felt impossibly hot. Rafe stood there, his hazel eyes burning for her, desperate for more.

And all she could think to say was, "I will go see about dinner now."

Dinner had passed without much fanfare in their small room. Rafe settled back into bed with a cold compress against his ribs and drifted in and out of sleep as Lily read by candlelight at the table beside the open window.

She would glance over from time to time, certain she had finally cooled off only to feel feverish again as she studied Rafe reclining in bed, his torso exposed, with sweat beading along his olive skin from the summer heat.

Their kiss had been perfect.

Lily nibbled her thumb, reading over the same passage of her science manuscript for perhaps the eighth time. She was hot, and for once, she didn't wish to learn about the wonders held in the heavens. Only hours earlier, she had discovered a far more enjoyable distraction.

"What are you thinking about?" Rafe asked, his voice rough with sleep and pain.

The ache in her chest deepened.

She looked up, struck by his burning gaze that held nothing but a delicious tumble of pleasure and mistakes. And somehow, she didn't think she could find it within her to stop now. It was one night.

One kiss.

Lily glanced back to her book, darting her tongue at the worried flesh of her thumb, imagining Rafe's lips against hers, how they explored the arch of her neck, the way shivers chased up her spine as his hands discovered the lines of her body.

"Lily?" He chuckled before hissing a soft groan.

She shot up in her seat and leaned onto her elbows, softly smiling at him. "Best not to laugh."

"Hard to do with you around, love."

There it was again, that small endearment, so innocent and sweet. And somehow, it suddenly belonged to her.

The candlelight flickered around their small room, making it appear smaller. Or perhaps it was because her heart raced in her chest and needed to do something other than sit still and wait.

"It's getting late," she said at last. Lily closed the book and peered out of the window. Echoes from the village filtered through the trees and the open window. "And we're missing the festival."

"Do you wish to go?"

She shook her head, her mind so far away from that moment, spinning wicked thoughts of Rafe touching and kissing her. Going to a festival wouldn't change that. No, they had kissed. Everything had changed now.

Everything became real, and it was growing difficult to pretend what lay between them was an accident or a small moment after a terrifying morning. It had been building between them for days.

And now Lily needed Rafe. Needed his lips on hers, his hands skimming over her warm skin, and the weight of him resting against her body. She craved it.

It was madness. Perhaps she had hit her head earlier harder than she first thought.

"Go back to sleep, Rafe. You need rest." She pushed to her feet, filled the wash basin, and slipped behind the dressing screen. She hummed to herself as she dipped the cloth into the water and traced it down her neck, thankful for the brief, cool retreat from the summer heat.

She closed her eyes, imagining Rafe standing behind her and slowly undressing her, tilting her head to the side so he could kiss along the column of her in throat in a long, slow quest of more.

One room. One bed.

One impossibly long trip now that she knew how his mouth tasted. With a quick sigh, she pushed away her frustration and folded the cloth, emerging from behind the screen. Rafe lay in the bed, his focus on that screen, and his eyes dangerously narrowed upon her.

"I think we both can fit in bed." His voice nearly cracked. "If…"

She scratched the back of her neck, suddenly feeling as if the room was spinning. She swallowed hard, flashed a smile, and broke his heated gaze.

Lily fetched another cloth and dampened it, then slowly padded next to the bed beside Rafe. He lifted his hand, gesturing for her to sit down. Somehow, even in between forgetting her name and wondering how hazel eyes could hold such fire, she sank down to the mattress beside him.

"It's best to keep this cloth cool." Her voice was ragged, and she cleared her throat once more. "It will help with the swelling and bruising. "

"I've had much worse."

She refused to look at him, certain the last sliver of self-preservation within her would crumble. "Even so."

"Hmm."

Her hands trembled as she peeled off the warm cloth draped over his bruised ribs, trying to avoid touching his skin. How she wished he would touch her. How she wished this fevered longing would pass.

That damn, troublesome kiss.

"You can look at me," he whispered.

She shook her head, swallowing the knots lodged there even as her heart drummed in her chest.

"Please?"

She replaced the old cloth with the new, cold cloth and gasped as his hand draped over hers and squeezed.

"I was thinking of you," she whispered.

Rafe licked his lips. "Me, too."

He sat up, hissing as he reached his mouth to hers and claimed it in a long, slow kiss. A prickle of awareness swept over her skin before desire ignited, burning deep within her. No, it was more than simple longing.

Lily craved Rafe.

"Come to bed, love." He released a jagged sigh against her mouth, begging.

Words escaped her, and the battle was lost. As long as Rafe was around, Lily would think of nothing else but his lips on hers, and the way the world suddenly opened up to a brighter, bigger place.

And for once, she wasn't so lonely.

She gently pushed him back against the mattress and stood, placing a finger over his mouth to quiet his protests. Lily walked around to the other side of the bed and quickly plaited her hair, thankful to have it off her neck.

"Close your eyes."

"Do I have to?"

"You kiss too well for someone with a smart mouth, Rafe."

He laughed again, instantly groaning .

"Best not to laugh. Now, close your eyes."

"I've had captains less strict than you."

"Perhaps that's where they went wrong."

He clamped his hand over his eyes and laughed, wincing. "Lily Abrams, get into this bed."

One day, she would long to hear her name upon his lips. One day, he wouldn't be there to utter it. She pushed aside the panic that clawed in her chest. "Or?"

"I will show you what happens when sailors are disciplined."

She laughed to herself as she wiggled out of her dress, leaving on her chemise, then slipped underneath the thin linen sheet. She rolled away from him, awareness prickling over her skin at his closeness.

"Good night," she whispered, staring at the wall. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as she slammed her eyes shut and prayed for some miracle, where time would stop and everyone's expectations of her would vanish. She would exist simply in this moment, sharing a bed with Rafe. And that would be simpler, as well.

Instead, it was complicated, and it felt as if she couldn't breathe as she struggled to let go of what she could have and accept what she had set out to claim as hers. She was in this room with her future bridegroom's brother.

It didn't have to go beyond a kiss tonight. No one would know. And then, even if Henry was the very devil, she would remember that one summer, where someone had truly looked at her and touched her as if they wanted her. Of that one summer where she discovered pleasure and embraced the courage stirring within to claim it for herself without shame or fear of what may come.

Rafe's hand skimmed along the line of her bare arm in the lightest of maddening, drugging touches. She rolled over to face him, frustration and desire thrumming through her.

His face was bruised, and dark stubble shadowed his jawline. The cut above his eye had been stitched but was red. It made him appear far too roguish for her well-being, especially with his short, curls standing this way and that.

"Good night," he whispered .

Or maybe it was something else. She couldn't remember because her eyes had been on his lips, and then she was on her knees with his face cupped gently in her hands, and they were kissing ever so softly.

"I don't wish to hurt you," she said.

"Too late," he replied.

She didn't seek out clarification. They both knew he wasn't talking about his ribs. Hearts were a much trickier matter.

The birds were up. And though Rafe had slept some, it was near impossible to melt into this bed and drift off to sleep with Lily there beside him.

And his damn ribs ached.

Not sprained as he feared, or bruised as he had told Lily, but likely broken, according to the surgeon. And just as well.

But he would be mad another day. He couldn't stomach that now, not when her hand brushed against his shoulder as she lay sleeping, her dark brown curls spilling over them in bed.

In the bed they shared.

He was afraid to move, not because of the pain that would inevitably follow, but because he did not want to wreck this moment. They would never share a bed again, and he was all the worse for it.

Lily had a small scar on her chin, and he wished to know where it came from. And he never noticed a pale freckle by her left cheekbone until now. And her lips, so soft and pink and kissable.

None of this was funny anymore. He hadn't found it hilarious since setting foot in Stonehurst Park.

They would move on. It was one time. And they would be arriving at his family's home today. Everything would change, and she would never look at him again as she had last night. With complete reverence.

He shut his eyes, took a shallow inhale, then rolled out of bed. If he ever found those two highwaymen, they would live to regret it.

"Rafe? "

Lily reached for him from across the bed.

"Shh, go back to sleep."

She mumbled something before drifting back off.

Good, it would be easier this way. He dressed quickly, peeking out the window of the small inn overlooking the busy village waking up to start another day. His stomach gurgled, but he didn't dare eat anything. There was a large knot in his gut, and he wasn't sure if it was because of what happened last night, or what would happen when they arrived at his family's home later in the day.

Lily would make an excellent wife, but she would never be his.

He quietly shut the door behind him and journeyed down the small stairwell to the tavern. The innkeeper was picking up a few tables, mumbling to herself until she spotted Rafe.

"Now I know you're not to be on your feet. Off to bed with you. Where's your wife?"

Rafe smiled in spite of the way his chest tightened. He swore then that his heart was bruised, and his ribs were fine. "I must speak with the constable. It's urgent."

"The incident yesterday? I suppose almost everyone knows what happened. It's a small village, smaller yet with the festival going on."

He nodded. Having grown up in a small village himself, he knew the problem well. "Still, where can I find him?"

"At this hour of the day?" She clutched a damp rag in her hands, then yelled for her husband. He shuffled out from the kitchen and waved her off.

"I need to get you a bell," he mumbled. "The constable will be at the Old Fox, breaking his fast, no doubt. Tell him Richard sent you. My brother can be a right arse to those passing through."

"Here," the wife said, shuffling forward with a basket. "Take a scone. You look as if you need one."

Rafe always did.

"Thank you. I will return shortly. I need to see about having my wife's telescope returned. It belonged to her late mother."

"Your brother is going to kill Archie," the woman said as Rafe turned to leave .

"That's the problem. He's afraid to stop his own son."

Rafe paused on the stone steps as a toad plopped onto the path and hid under the primroses.

The woman continued to her husband as they moved inside, "Love finds us when we least expect it and need it most."

Rafe supposed that was true, even if he didn't wish to hear it.

And he didn't.

In a few days' time, he would be leaving Lily, and suddenly, he felt as if he were tethered to her. It would be best to continue on and make sure they never shared a bed again.