by SpursFanatic
“Get out!”
“Good God, Rafe, what happened to you?”
Her gaze shot to his. Something wild and primitive blazed in his black eyes. If she did not know him better, she would be frightened for her safety.
“Rafe -”
The next thing she knew she was out in the hall, staring at his closed door. She couldn’t move. Footsteps running up the stairs reached her ears.
“Tarin, what happened?”
Patrick reached her before the others. He came around to face her. They both started when a crash sounded on the other side of the door.
“What… happened to him?” Her eyes shot to his, the shock decelerating her words.
He tried to turn her away. “Come, Tarin -“
She stood her ground. She didn’t want to go away. She wanted to see Rafe. “No, Patrick. I’m not leaving until I have some answers.”
“Tarin.” Isabel came up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t you come downstairs and wait for him there?”
“Yes, Tarin,” Beau interjected. “He will not leave his room until we are away from the door, I assure you.”
Shrugging off Isabel’s arm, Tarin shook her head in aggravation. Why did they not answer her? Why were they trying to console her? And why didn’t they tell her what had happened to him in the first place?
“I don’t want to go downstairs. I want to know what happened to Rafe.”
Her eyes searched the group but no one spoke. They crowded her, giving no room to move. The air grew stifling, making her body hot and agitated.
“Tarin.” Her father’s booming voice commanded her attention. She turned to face him, her hands fisted in her skirts. “You will come downstairs and wait for him there.”
“I do not want to go downstairs,” she said through gritted teeth. “I want some bloody answers!”
A delicate, heavily-accented voice cut through the air with deadly calm. “I have the answers you want, meiha. Come with me.”
Violent sobs wracked Tarin’s body to the point of pain. Tears ran down her cheeks like pouring rain, her heart shattered to dust. Her logical, compassionate mind could not comprehend the graphic torture and agony that Rosa expressed. Could not imagine what Rafe had felt or endured. It hurt her beyond coherence to know what Rafe had suffered.
If only she could have suffered the hurt for him.
“We had to kill most to get to Rafe.” Rosa’s voice, though quiet, echoed in the silent parlor. Henry stood behind Tarin’s chair, his hand on her shoulder. Beau held Isabel’s hand as she sobbed on the sofa, while Patrick kneeled beside Rosa’s chair, his hand in hers.
“My pa-” her voice broke, “my padre cut him down, he dropped in Beau’s arms. We thought he was dead. We took him back to the mission.” She paused as she squeezed Patrick’s hand. “We would not leave him.”
Holy God above, she was going to be sick. Tarin held her palm against her stomach, trying to ward off the nausea.
“Rosa and her mother nursed him night and day.” Beau interjected, his eyes on Isabel’s bowed head. “I firmly believe that it was the continual prayers of Rosa’s family and the people at the mission that pulled Rafe through. He should not have survived.”
Were it not for the woman that loved Rafe first, Tarin would have never known him. Would have never enjoyed his arrogant sense of humor, his protectiveness, his support of her career. Would never have tasted his kisses or shared the blissful intimacy in the garden.
She would never have fallen in love.
“I cannot find the words to thank you.” Her eyes met Rosa’s.
“There is no need. He and the Rangers did much for the people. They faced danger each day to protect us.” She smiled at Beau before looking at Tarin again. “You see, meija, what frightened you that day in the park is what he did each day for us. We would have never survived without the Rangers.”
Rafe had spent the last ten years saving lives just as she wanted to do. She had accused him of having little regard for his life when in fact, he had great regard for his life. He knew he had to be strong to protect others so he found the most efficient way of destroying the threat to minimize the danger.
Rafe had mostly likely saved more people than she ever would in her career, should it come to fruition.
Tarin shook her head. It was she who was the coward. If she wanted to save lives, she would have to be brave. That’s what he had tried to tell her in the parlor that day. If she was afraid to love him and lose him, how could she love and lose on a daily basis?
Because in fact, she would love the patients. Everyone of them.
Patrick said, “Rafe has struggled with this since his return. But not more so than the last few days, knowing he would have to… reveal himself to you.”
Henry’s voice sounded loud in the somber room. “Surely he knows my daughter would not reject him for something so superficial?”
Patrick shook his head. “On the contrary, he believes she will feel revulsion.”
Tarin stilled. How could he think such a thing? How could he think her love based solely on his features?
Apparently, she had to make a few things clear to her future husband.
“You see, Henry,” Isabel added, “Rafe has always used his handsomeness to get what he wanted. He believed it was all he had in life.” She dabbed at her nose with Beau’s handkerchief. “As you know, Colin was very tough on him - Rafe never could do anything to please his father. Yet, he continually strived to be perfect, only to fail time and again.“
She sighed with despondency. “In his rebellion, Rafe used his charm and handsomeness on the young girls. That was the only place where he found a modicum of success in his life. So he used it all of the time. Unfortunately, he returned from Texas without the only upper hand he knew. He is misplaced without the confidence of his attractiveness.”
Tarin sat up in her chair. Yes, of course. It all made sense. His insecurity continually weighed him down, while the ingrained charm surfaced on occasion. She could see it so clearly now.
He believed he was unlovable. When in fact, she loved him more than ever.
At the sound of rapid, heavy boot steps in the foyer, they all turned towards the door. Tarin held her breath. Rafe appeared for a split second, storming past without a glance their way. Opening the front door, he slammed it behind him.
Her stomach clenched. How could he just leave that way? They had so much to discuss.
She jumped up to follow him.
“Give him time, daughter,” Henry warned, with a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
“What if he does not return?” Panic clenched her chest. “What if he is leaving Boston again?”
She saw Isabel and Patrick exchange a worried glance. Everyone in the room knew the possibility was there. He had done it before.
And Tarin knew she could not live without him. He had become more important to her than the college could ever be, more important than becoming a physician. In that moment of panic, she wanted to be his wife and mother of his children above all. Nothing else mattered.
Turning around in the chair, she gripped her father’s arm. “I cannot lose Rafe. Please father, help me get him back.”
######
“My daughter asked me to find you and by God, I am going to take you to her.”
Turning in his chair, Rafe glanced over his shoulder at Henry Worthington. The bastard glared down his nose at Rafe while the men around the club stared at them with avid interest. Henry was the reason Rafe was in this mess. If Worthington hadn’t approached him with his damned deal, Rafe wouldn’t be here now, wishing he was normal. Wishing he had what Tarin wanted.
He wasn’t three sheets to the wind yet, but he was getting there. And he didn’t want to be interrupted.
“Is that so, Worthington? You and who’s militia?” Rafe turned back around and took a drink of his bourbon.
He glared at the wealthy, well-dressed men staring at him from the other tables. Rafe gla
nced down at his denims and open-collar shirt and smirked.
“I never pegged you for a self-pitying coward, Sutherland.”
Rafe’s stomach clenched a second before he shot up from his chair. Whipping around, he grabbed Henry by the collar and pulled him to within an inch of his face.
“This from a man that cowers in front of his own daughter?”
Henry’s green eyes blazed with anger in his red face. “Isn’t that the reason you are here?”
Rafe felt the blow as sure as if he’d punched him in the face. That was the reason he was here, wasn’t it? He was afraid of facing Tarin after what she had seen. Afraid his fears had all come to fruition.
Slowly, he released Henry. “You’re right,” he said in a low voice. Rafe sat back down at the table and picked up his drink. “And I have no intention of ever facing her.”
“What?” Henry cried, plopping down in the chair opposite Rafe. “You would stand up my daughter at the altar?”
“Altar?!” Rafe gave a bitter chuckle. “She would no sooner marry me now than if I had the ability to make her a damned physician.”
“You’re wrong,” Henry said lowly. “She would marry you now if you wanted to meet her at the church.”
Frowning, Rafe swirled around the liquid in his glass. How could that be? How could the most beautiful woman in Boston want a creature like him?
“She doesn’t want me, Henry. You want me and talked her into it.”
Worthington grumbled under his breath before saying, “She wanted you from the moment she met you. I saw it that first night at your home.” He folded his hands on top of the table. “I just capitalized on it.”
Blowing out a breath, Rafe slumped in his chair. He knew she had been attracted to him. They had shared soul-searching love in the Cabot garden and kisses he would kill a man over should he try them on her.
But now? Could she ever share his bed?
“Did it ever cross your mind why I am here?” Henry asked. “Why I, rather than a hired hand, had bothered to search for you at all?”
Rafe met Henry’s gaze. No, actually, it hadn’t crossed his mind. But now that he thought about it, Henry had nothing to gain by this marriage. No financial benefits or political profit. Yes, he would gain a husband for his daughter, but they both knew he could force that at any time.
Henry laughed to himself. “I see it hasn’t. After you walked out tonight, Tarin told me, and I quote, ‘I cannot lose Rafe. Please father, help me get him back.’”
Rafe’s eyes widened.
“And you know Rafe, I deny my daughter nothing.”
Rafe stared down at the table, his body still in disbelief. She wanted him? She actually still wanted him?
This time, Henry sat back and laughed. “Let’s go, Sutherland.” He stood and tossed some coin on the table. “You two are getting married in the morning and Tarin needs her rest.”
If there was a chance she could love him despite his flaws, he owed it to her to know the truth. He was tired of the secrets.
Rafe grabbed Worthington's wrist to stop him. “If I go back, I tell her of our deal.”
Stilling, Henry slowly dropped down in the chair. He looked around the room before leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Listen here, you cocky bastard, I have given you the opportunity of a lifetime. You tell her and the deal is off.”
“It’s not about the money anymore, Worthington.” Rafe sat back in his chair and met his gaze dead on. “I love Tarin and if she’s got to live with me like this, then she deserves to know the truth.”
Brows raised, Henry‘s back went rigid. “You would risk your family’s welfare…”
Rafe nodded.
“She will hate me, Sutherland - and you.”
He gave another brief nod. “That is a chance I am willing to take. I do not want to go into this marriage with a lie on my conscience. Either Tarin has full knowledge or it’s off.”
Wincing, Rafe waited for Henry’s decision. The thought of losing her was like a knife to his chest. And he couldn’t even think about the sacrifice to his family. But, he wanted her only if she came to him of her own free will. He needed to know she wanted him scars and all, with no barriers between them.
“Very well, Sutherland. But hear me and hear me now. If my daughter disowns me, I will make your life a living hell.”
Smirking, Rafe stood. “I’ve been through living hell and survived, Worthington. You don’t scare me.”
No, it wasn’t Henry that scared him. It was his stubborn, beautiful daughter that scared the shit out of him.
God above, please tell him he was doing the right thing.
Chapter 16
When he returned, Tarin was going to give Rafe Sutherland a piece of her mind.
Pacing the Sutherland library as Isabel and Beau looked on, she’d had hours to think about what had transpired here tonight and frankly, she was quite miffed.
How dare he think her so shallow as to reject him for his physical scars? And how dare he worry her, knowing she loved him beyond reason?
And what in blazes was he doing naked in his bedroom in the first place, when he should have been downstairs in the parlor with the family?
“Tarin, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”
Isabel came up beside her and put an arm around Tarin’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down? I will wake you as soon as Henry and Rafe return.”
Tarin chewed her bottom lip. Perhaps, sending her father to look for Rafe had been a mistake. Beau and Patrick had offered in his stead, but her father had insisted.
Henry Worthington was not the most compassionate of men and Tarin wondered if compassion was what Rafe needed right now.
She clenched her fists in her skirts. No, Tarin thought, what Rafe needed right now was a swift kick in the -
“Tarin.”
She stilled. Whipping her head around, she breathed a sigh of relief. Rafe stood behind the sofa, her father nowhere to be seen. He looked bedraggled with his long, mussed hair and wrinkled, western clothes. His eyes were bloodshot and round with worry.
She had never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Rafe…” She ran to him, tears swimming in her eyes.
He caught her up in his arms and squeezed her to the point of breathlessness. Inhaling deeply, his nose burrowed in her hair. “God, I love you, Tarin.”
Utter joy stopped her heart. Rafe had never said the words before but she had hoped and dreamed they would make their way to his lips someday. She struggled to pull away, to shower his face with kisses, but he held her to him.
“I love you, too.”
He released her, only to clutch her face in his palms and stare at her intently. He smelled of liquor and cigar smoke, his breathing heavy. “Do you, Tarin? Do you love me - even after all you’ve seen?”
She smiled, knowing she could give him the assurance he needed. “Yes, Rafe. I love you more today than I ever have.”
Expecting him to sweep her into his arms again, she stumbled when he released her completely. He strode across the room to stare out the window. The stillness told her they were alone.
“There is something you should know, Tarin.”
The joy in her heart dropped to her stomach. A sense of foreboding enveloped her, bringing with it instant nausea.
She took a deep breath and released it. “If I should know then, by all means, tell me.”
He turned to look at her but said nothing. His eyes were black as the night sky, his jaw clenched tight.
She took a step closer. The tension clouding the air told her to be cautious. “Tell me, Rafe.”
He looked at the floor, as though looking for answers there. When he raised his gaze to her again, determination shown bright in his eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen…”
Her fists clenched in her skirts. Somehow, the compliment did not feel like a compliment at all. Rafe never told her she was beautiful. He had always admired her other attribu
tes more.
“And I -” he swallowed, “I am… flawed.”
She did not acknowledge his statement, afraid any sign of agreement would silence him.
“What man in my situation would pursue a woman of your beauty?”
She took an internal sigh of relief. Was that all this was?
Tarin grinned. “A man of supreme arrogance.”
He gave her a small, lopsided grin before sobering again. “Or one desperate for money.”
The nausea roared to life in her stomach. It pitched and turned, causing Tarin to clutch her stomach.
“No…” She backed towards the door.
He followed her, step for step. “Your father approached me with a deal - if I could persuade you to marry me, he would give me his shipping for life.”
Oh, God…
“And your family is struggling…” She looked away, her body rigid with shock.
They had betrayed her. The two people she loved most in the world had lied to her.
Her mother had told her not to allow her father to arrange a marriage. She had told Tarin to marry for love.
She thought she had followed her advice.
When in truth, Rafe was like all of the others. He did not care about her mind, her wants, or her interests. He cared about himself and the Worthington fortune.
“I cannot believe I was such a fool.”
Rafe grabbed her, his hands like steel bands around her upper arms. “You are no fool, Tarin. You are one of the smartest people I know.” He squeezed her. “I love you, Tarin. In your heart, you know that.”
She shoved away from him. “You lie! Do you think me a fool twice? That you just happened to fall in love with the daughter of the one person in Boston that could save your family and your business?”
Anger shook her to the core, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. She slammed her fists against his chest. “I trusted you, you bastard!”
He gripped her arms again and shook her. “Tarin, think. If I were the man you accuse me to be, would I confess all to you now? Wouldn’t I wait until after we were married to tell you - if at all?”
