“I was a fool,” he admitted softly. “But I swear to you, love, I will never push you away again. You are the only person who can make me whole. Without you, I am nothing.” She turned her head to look at him. “I love you, Rosilee. I love you to death.”
Her gaze softened, and for a moment, Blake saw the brave girl who had saved him, the face he’d sketched a thousand times. Somewhere along the way, somehow, he had fallen in love with her, or rather the idea of her, only to discover she was so much more than he’d dreamed. A woman who saw his flaws and wanted him anyway.
“I love you, too,” she answered, equally softly. “More than you could ever imagine.
God, my heart.
Blake captured her lips with his. Not kissing her in this moment—he would regret that all his life. He didn’t care thatthey were in public. It didn’t matter if the papers were filled with gossip. The world could turn upside down on its axis for all he cared.
His already had.
His senses flooded with her—the soft brush of her lips, the slight taste of sweetness lingering from the tea she’d had earlier. She twisted toward him, and her hand slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He shivered when her fingers pushed into his hair.
I don’t have to let her go.
She was his.
He was hers.
And he could touch and kiss her whenever he wanted. Forever. He would no longer have to settle for memories, dreams, and drawing her lovely face. He—
Someone cleared their throat.
Blake furrowed his brows, slowly pulling away from Rosilee to glance over his shoulder, the shallow lines turning into a deep scowl when he spotted his half-brother atop his own horse, staring at them with a sheepish look on his face. The sweetness of the moment shattered like glass.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Blake growled, irritation clawing its way up his throat.
Reaper scratched the back of his head. “I followed you.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Blake snapped. And just what in the blazes was this suspicious half-brother of his really up to? The man had a way of appearing at the worst possible moments, always stirring up trouble.
“He helped me, Blake,” came Rosilee’s soft response.
“He helped you?” Blake repeated, his voice low, incredulous. “How?”
“Well, for one,” she murmured, her gaze turning to his half-brother. “He tried to stop me from entering the Lyon’s Den.He also didn’t give me any time to speak with Mrs. Dove-Lyon, always interrupting me when I tried.”
Reaper crossed his arms, a smirk forming on his lips. “I also sent you the note.”
“Note?” Rosilee murmured. “So that’s how you knew where I’d gone.”
Blake nodded. Still, there was something he didn’t understand. “Why would you help me?”
“Because we’re brothers,” Reaper said simply, sounding unbothered. Almost too unbothered for a man who had thrown himself into Blake’s life without an invitation.
Blake let out a bitter laugh. “Brothers or not, we don’t know each other.”
“Know each other or not, we are brothers,” Reaper countered.
Bloody infuriating man.
“I sent word to our other brothers as well.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”
Reaper shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. “Because we share blood. Because you needed our help. Oh, and I was the one who informed Baston where to find your lady love. You can thank me with a bottle of French brandy.”
Blake’s face went blank.Thank, my arse!“For what? Causing more trouble? What are you playing at?”
