Intimate 02 - Intimate Surrender (17 page)

The frown on his forehead deepened, and she knew he remembered at least some of what happened that night.

“How long have I been here?”

“Five days.”

“No wonder you look tired. You haven’t gotten any rest since then, have you?”

Hannah rose from her chair and walked away from him. “Why were you still here? I thought you’d returned to Wedgewood Manor. Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t.”

She turned. “Why?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I know that because you stayed, you almost got yourself killed.”

“You were in danger. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I’d have left you and something happened to you.”

“You’re a vicar, Rafe. A
vicar
! Not an officer in Her Majesty’s army who’s been trained to kill.”

“I could have been.”

“Could have been what?”

“An officer. In Her Majesty’s army.”

Rafe’s words confused her. She stopped to focus on his face. His eyes were closed, but there was a lift to his swollen lips. He was teasing her. He’d nearly gotten himself killed and he was
teasing
her! “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“I try my hardest.”

For the hundredth time since he’d been hurt, she realized how much she loved him and how desperately she’d miss him if he died. A knot formed in her throat and tears filled her eyes. She walked to the chair where she’d spent endless terrifying hours over the last five days and sat. “Go back to sleep now.”

“I’ve slept long enough. I want to stay awake.”

He was tiring. She knew she should let him sleep, but she couldn’t deny his need to stay awake for just a little while. She reached for his hand and held it. “Why did you become a vicar? Why not an officer?”

He breathed a shaky sigh. “The uniforms.”

A laugh she couldn’t stop escaped. “The uniforms?” she said when she stopped laughing.

“Yes, have you ever seen them?”

“Yes. Often, as a matter of fact. I find them very attractive—as well as the men wearing them.”

“Women always do.”

Hannah thought. “I suppose we do. But you don’t?”

“Have you ever asked a soldier how he likes wearing a uniform?”

“No.”

“If you had, they’d tell you they hated them. They’re hot in the summer. Scratchy year-round. And very uncomfortable. They’re…”

He stopped to take a breath. A sheen of perspiration covered his forehead. “They’re only appealing to the people looking at them. Not the ones wearing them.”

Hannah stopped to rinse a cloth in some cool water and dabbed his face. “I hadn’t thought of that. No wonder you chose to be a vicar.”

His answer was a moan.

He was in pain. The doctor had warned her he would be when he woke.

“You’ve talked enough. It’s time to sleep.” Hannah reached for the dark bottle on the bedside table and poured a small amount of the liquid into a glass of wine.
After she stirred it, she lifted his head and held it to his lips. “Here, drink this.”

“What is it?”

“Laudanum. The doctor said to give you some when you woke. It will ease the pain.”

Rafe drank from the glass, then sank back into the mattress. “Get some rest, Hannah. You need it.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted, and you can’t afford to let down your guard. You’re in trouble.” He breathed a heavy sigh. “You won’t be able to protect yourself from Skinner if you can’t even stay awake.”

She straightened the covers around him and made sure he was comfortable, then sat back in her chair. “I’ll stay here until you’re asleep, then I’ll go to my room. I’ll get someone to stay here with you. If you need anything, tell them. They’ll come for me.”

She sank back into her chair and closed her eyes. He was already asleep when she checked on him a minute later.

Hannah looked at his battered and beaten body and knew what happened to him was her fault. Her goal was now to protect him—and the only way she could accomplish that was to make sure he left London.

A knot formed in her stomach. Forcing him to leave was the only way she could keep him alive.

And it would kill the part of her heart she needed to live.

Rafe opened his eyes and shifted his gaze to the chair where she always sat. It was empty.

He looked around the room and found her looking out the window.

She wore peach today, the deepest, richest shade of peach he’d ever seen. Her hair was loosely pulled back from her face, and a fistful of golden ringlets was allowed to cascade down her back, fastened at the crown of her head by an intertwining comb made from pearls. The only term that described her was
gorgeous
. He stared at her for a while longer before he spoke. “What kind of a day is it?” he finally asked.

She turned and smiled. “It’s a picture-perfect spring day.”

“I’m sure it can’t equal the picture-perfect woman I’m looking at right now.”

She smiled and favored him with a graceful curtsy.

“Perhaps I can escort you outside, then?” he said.

She pursed her lips and gave him a strict glare. “Perhaps you’ll stay in bed as the doctor ordered you to do.”

“That was a week ago. He didn’t realize how quickly I was capable of healing when he issued that ridiculous order.”

“He knew exactly how much time it would take you to recover from the beating you took. As well as the bullet wound.”

“Has anyone told you how impossible you are?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve never had anyone try to go against my orders.”

“Are you serious?”

She gifted him with a look of superiority. “Of course I am. Everyone at Madam Genevieve’s understands the wisdom in my directives.”

Rafe opened his mouth to refute her boastfulness, then stopped. She was serious. He laughed, but not too hard because of the pain he’d suffer if he did. “You are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’m glad you realize that fact.”

“You’re also exceedingly stubborn and unwavering.”

Her delicate eyebrows arched. “Thank you, my lord. I appreciate your candid opinion.”

“And you are tenacious to a fault.”

Several furrows deepened across her brow. “Take care,” she warned. “Your compliments are taking on a more negative tone.”

“I assure you that is not my intent.”

“What is your intent, then?”

“I was hoping that you would question your determination, Hannah. I admit I am not well enough to do much, but I am well enough to do more than lie in this bed and be waited on.”

She pursed her lips as if considering his argument, then walked to his bedside.

“Going out-of-doors is out of the question.” She paused. “But perhaps you could sit on the edge of the bed for a while.”

“And stand?”

She laughed. “Let’s see how you manage sitting first. Then we’ll see about standing.”

She pulled back his covers and held out her arm for him to take. He slowly sat, then gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed.

A pain shot through his back, and he stiffened.

“Not too fast,” she warned.

He shifted his body so he was steady, then stretched to test the limits of his endurance. “See, Hannah. I can manage sitting quite well.”

“I have to admit, I’m impressed. It’s to your advantage that you were in excellent physical condition before Skinner got hold of you.”

The mention of Skinner’s name shifted the mood of their conversation. “You didn’t have to bring up such an unpleasant reminder.”

“Yes, I did. I don’t ever want you to forget his name, or what he is capable of doing. I want you to remember what a danger he is to you. And how the next time you meet, he will not hesitate to kill you.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re trying to scare me away?”

“Because I am.”

Rafe patted the bed beside him. “Here. Sit.”

Hannah hesitated, then sat.

When she was settled, he reached for her hand and held it. The feel of her flesh against his caused the same reaction as always—a growing warmth that rushed from where their hands touched to every part of his body. “I don’t claim to understand everything Madam Genevieve’s is involved in, and I can’t condone what goes on here, but I admire how you’re trying to help the children.” He paused. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? The children.”

She didn’t answer, and he took her silence as a yes.

“I know you are concerned for me. Just as I’m concerned for you. But please save your breath if you think that I will
consider leaving you to face Skinner by yourself. I won’t do that.”

She sighed, and her shoulders lowered in defeat. “Why, Rafe? Why, even after you know how dangerous it is for you?”

“Don’t you know?” He took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. When she faced him, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

Her kiss was just as he remembered. Heat soared and raced to soothe every aching tendon. His heart tumbled in his chest, and a euphoric energy swelled inside of him.

He loved her. He’d known it for quite some time—suspected it at first, then knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt the minute he saw her walk into Skinner’s trap and feared he might lose her. At that moment, he knew he’d never survive if he lost her.

He deepened his kiss, skimming her lips with his tongue, then delving inside her honeyed cavern when she allowed him entrance. He could never have enough of her. Could never love her completely enough. And he would never allow her to push him out of her life.

Rafe held her closer and kissed her again and again. No matter how hard she insisted he leave her, he never would.

He never could.

H
annah told herself over and over that she’d never allow Rafe to kiss her again. Each kiss was like the pounding of a chisel that chipped away at the barricade she’d erected around her heart to protect it. Every time he kissed her, he exposed more of her heart and her emotions. Every time he kissed her, he possessed more of her soul.

His arms wrapped around her to pull her closer, and she went willingly. All her resolution and determination evaporated the moment she went into his arms. She’d never experienced an overpowering weakness where any man was concerned. Never felt as if she wasn’t a whole person unless she was at his side.

She met his deepening kiss and pressed harder against him. She wanted to crawl inside his body and be a part of him—if that were possible. He possessed so much of her heart, she already felt as if he were a part of her. Now she wanted to be a part of him—and she knew it would be easy. He’d already told her that he loved her. He’d already proved that he loved her. Loved her enough to give up his life to save hers.

That was the indicator she needed to halt this kiss and not let it go any further. That was the cautionary warning she required to pull her back from the emotional depths of his
kisses…to remind herself what would happen if she fooled herself into believing it was possible to have a life with him.

She permitted herself one final kiss, then lifted her mouth from his.

She lowered her head to his chest and listened to the rapid thundering of his heart. It echoed the pounding in her own breast. It made the two of them seem as if they were one. And in several ways, she knew that they were. He was the other half of her heart—the other half of her soul. And she possessed his heart and soul as well.

She pulled away from him and shifted on the bed to put some distance between them.

“Don’t be afraid, Hannah.”

She wanted to laugh. “Of course I’m afraid. Skinner’s—”

“I wasn’t talking about Skinner. I was talking about you and me.”

Hannah turned toward him and focused on the gentle features of his face and the tenderness in his eyes. He embodied all that was kindness and peacefulness. He was the antithesis of her life up until the day she met him. He erased the days in her father’s house, the hours she’d spent on her knees asking God to forgive her for being such a wretched sinner. He removed the horridness of what the rapist had done to her and made her feel as if she were someone capable of being loved. And he wiped away the ugliness of selling her body to men because she hadn’t been strong enough to starve on the streets. He wiped away the foulness of the unthinkable acts she’d committed in order to stay alive.