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What does it mean? And how did he manage to put so much tenderness, yet so much scorching heat into a kiss that was over almost as soon as it began? Sorcery, I tell you. The man is a sorcerer.
Kat leans forward in her chair, and I can almost hear her chanting, Fight! Fight! Fight!
I would have been here sooner, but they wouldn’t let me back to see you.” “That’s twice you’ve gotten by The Dane. Perhaps I need to up my security.” “Perhaps when it comes to you, I won’t let anything hold me back.”
What if I don’t want Callum? What if I want someone else?
Somehow, imagining your happy place doesn’t really work when you don’t have a happy place.
No—those moments may have factored in, but I think it was when I made it seem like my true feelings were an act, cheapening all my words and making them seem like pretense.
Those few seconds are necessary to remind myself of the part I’m supposed to play, the role everyone expects of me. I slip back into that Rafe, familiar and easy like my favorite pair of jeans worn to fit me just right.
How could he not love her? I fell for her the first time I met her, when we were just children.
Within moments, she’d grabbed my heart straight out of my chest.
Hearing him talk makes my gut lurch. Is that how I used to sound? Is that really how I lived?
Isn’t that love? Wanting what’s best for the other person, even if it breaks your heart?
“It’s the big bad wolf. Do I need to huff and puff to blow the door in?”
“Angel,” he says by way of greeting. “Devil.”
His interest in my political policies shouldn’t have any impact on my attraction to the man. But I’m not sure there’s a hotter picture than that of Rafe de Silva, eyes gleaming as he waits for me to talk nerdy to him.
Why do these words feel like the best compliments I’ve ever been paid?
“Can’t have you going around with your bum unprotected,” Rafe says. “It’s precious cargo.”
If only food were the way to a woman’s heart.” Who’s to say it isn’t?
A few days ago, I would have called the duke a stranger. Maybe an enemy. Now, he’s the only other person besides Kat who is truly and actively checking in on me. And the concern in his voice is no act. Rafe cares.
“How I feel doesn’t matter. I have a duty to do.” Rafe’s fingers curl around my hand and squeeze. “It matters how you feel.”
Perhaps you should make a spreadsheet with an extensive list of my faults. You know, just to keep my ego in check.” “I’m not sure anything could keep your ego in check. I’m also not sure my computer has enough memory for a spreadsheet quite that large.”
“Helping a friend,” he says simply. I snort. “We aren’t exactly friends.” “I don’t usually picnic with strangers.” “Do you picnic with friends? Or is it reserved for women you’re trying to woo?” “I’ve never had a picnic before.”
“I’m enjoying my first picnic very much,”
“Knowing where you spend your time isn’t stalking. It’s … caring.” “Stalker.”
Don’t let him touch your emotions. Wall them up. It will be fine. You will be fine. You’re a survivor.
I feel nothing. I will be okay.
Focus on that. Focus on her face, the sound of her voice.
Think of that light, her light.
“I’d never dare mansplain to you, Angel. Talking is simply my way of trying to feel useful. You’re doing all the hard work. I’m not even sure you need me.
Rafe and I made a good team.
I think we’re coloring outside of the lines at this point.
I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
“He’s so handsome,” Juliet sighs. “How does he kiss?” “Juliet!” I scold. “Yeah, Jules,” Henri agrees. “You can’t just ask like that. You have to be a little more subtle. Example.” She turns to face me, blinking up with faux-innocent eyes. “Are the rumors about Rafe’s prowess true?” “That’s even worse!”
Can women win? Sometimes, it doesn’t seem as though we can. We’re tarts, or we’re frigid. Weak or overbearing.
Her cheeks turn pink again, and I have a new favorite color.
Welcome to the royal family! Where we’re just as messed up as every regular family. But with crowns and countries at our disposal.
With Rafe, I am Serafina at full volume. I’m brighter, stronger, more. And he helps draw that out of me by giving me the space to be unapologetically ME.
“Seraf,” he whispers. “You kissed me.” “I’m sorry.” “Why? Why on earth would you feel the need to apologize?” “Because I shouldn’t have, and it was so … I’m so ...” “Gloriously perfect,”
I’m the choice I wish she’d make.
“Thanks for letting me share your spot.” “It’s not mine.” She smiles, and it feels like something is tumbling down inside my chest. “It’s ours, then. Yeah?” “Yeah.”
“And hey—maybe you don’t need to hear this tonight, but it’s something my mum always tells me. ‘The night is darkest before the dawn.’ It’s a quote from someone famous,” she adds, then drops her voice to a whisper, eyes sparkling. “But I think Mum got it from a Batman movie.”
“I thought you were wearing blue,”
“Someone told me I’d look good in red.”
“This can be as real as you want it to be, Seraf.”
“It’s always been real for me.”
“But you would marry me?” “Yes.” No hesitation. No question. No arguments. And, perhaps most shocking of all, no hint of teasing.
I’d like you to know what a kiss from me is like. A real kiss.”
“Trying to sway my decision?”
“Simply making sure you have all the facts.” “Facts, hm? Is that really playing fair?” “Oh, Angel, I never promised I’d play fair.”
While I admire strength and want someone to have a backbone, there is something beautiful when I see this softness in Rafe. Maybe because it’s a secret, something hidden and kept just for me.
“I’d take on anyone in this room for you.”
