Page 10 of Master of Games (The Duke Fraternity #4)

CHAPTER NINE

Despite the comfort of Caden’s arms, Tabbie couldn’t sleep.

Mayhap it was the nap, though her body still felt exhausted. But her thoughts wouldn’t quiet.

She was afraid of being rejected.

If she were honest, she was afraid of being judged by Caden more so than most. He had the power to break her heart like no one else before him.

She wasn’t supposed to care for the rake. The man who coerced women into his bed at will.

But he’d been so much more than that. He’d been her friend and confidant the past few days in a way she hadn’t experienced in so long.

Was that how rakes worked? They told a woman what she needed to hear so that she lowered her defenses?

He’d asked her to marry him. Did he mean it? What would marriage be like?

For the first time, she allowed herself to explore a different future than the one she’d been imagining.

Nights spent together. Walks. Conversations…

But that was her version of marriage. What was his? Marrying him did not promise any actual change on his part. What if he still intended to go around seducing debutantes?

He said he’d given that up, but what if it was all a lie?

Her chest ached.

And what if, when he saw the extent of her burns, he decided she’d been right all along and they were too much?

That was a question that could be answered any time. It did not require marriage. At least not for her. The rules could be damned.

“Caden?”

“Yes, kitten?”

“Did I wake you?” she asked turning to look back at him.

He quirked a half smile. “I never fell asleep.”

“Why?” she gasped turning in his arms.

“Your mind is exceptionally loud,” he gave a low chuckle. “I can practically hear it turning.”

She nipped at her lip, giving a nervous giggle. “I didn’t realize thoughts could be heard without speaking.”

“Your body is vibrating with tension. Why don’t you tell me why.”

“Ah,” she looked away then, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About getting over my fears.”

“And?”

“I guess it bothers me because I don’t usually let fear hold me back.”

“I know you don’t, Tabbie. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “And the fact that you’re afraid is a testament to other people’s cruelty, not your strength.”

Maybe that was true. But it didn’t change what she had to do. “I’ve decided you’re right.”

“About marriage?”

“About showing you my scars.” She drew in a ragged breath. She never wanted to be in this moment. She hardly even allowed the staff to see her body, bathing herself and dressing in her first layers before the maid attended her.

He gently turned her face toward his, his lips dropping over hers in a light, tender kiss. “You’re not frightening me away, I promise.”

“Why not?” She looked into his eyes, knowing his reaction was important. “Why would you want me when you could have the most perfect woman in the world?”

He drew in a breath, snorting softly. “Who says you’re not perfect?”

“I’m not,” she cried back. “Scars are by definition, imperfections.”

His hand slid down her neck, over her arm to her waist where he pulled their bodies tighter together. “Everyone has scars and no one is perfect. Do I wish to sacrifice character for outer beauty? I know you think me vapid, which is likely deserved, but I can assure you, I choose you.”

She’d like to believe him, but there was a part of her that just couldn’t. How could he like the sight of her body when she found her own skin hideous?

But she was tired of being afraid.

She had no idea what might come after she showed him. Would it be worse than not knowing?

Was she ready for this?

Was ready even a feeling or was it a choice? Tabbie drew in a deep breath and then she pushed away from Caden, climbing out of the bed.

* * *

Caden forced himself to remain lying down. It was the position of least dominant energy and this was Tabbie’s moment of control.

But he wanted to stand. Hold her face, catch her tears.

He’d tried to explain that her scars meant nothing to him. He’d seen every manner of feminine beauty and hers was the one he wanted to worship for the rest of his life.

But he’d have to tell her often and for a long time in order for her to believe it.

And even more than that, he’d have to show her. With his body on hers, he’d have to prove that the scars didn’t make a difference.

She stood at the edge of the bed, her hands straight down at her sides.

Her breath puffed out from her lips, the rapid beat of it, matching the thudding of his heart.

“I…”

“You’re all right,” he murmured, reaching across the bed to touch her thigh. “You’re safe with me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not certain I’m safe with anyone.”

That was the heart of it. Not even her father had been able to stand next to her in grief. “I don’t blame you for not trusting. Take your time.”

“Ironheart.”

That was a bad sign. “Luv.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?” he slid closer, feeling the distance that was opening up between them.

“Why do you want to help me? Why do you want to marry me?” she shook her head, taking a step back from the bed. “I thought your answers didn’t matter. That I could do this anyway and just see what happens next, but now that I’m here…”

“I know what happens next.”

“What?”

“You’ll see that I meant what I said. That your scars make no difference to me.”

She shook her head. “I know you think that.”

“I know it, Tabbie.”

Her arms wrapped about her torso. “You only think you do.”

He let out a rumble of frustration. They were having the same conversation over and over. “Give me a chance—”

“That’s easy for you to ask. You risk nothing.” Her voice rose with every word.

“I risk losing you.” He sat up then, needing her to understand.

“No. I’ve already told you—”

“I’m in love with you Tabbie.” There. The words were out. “Let me love you.”

She froze staring at him and that’s when they started. The tears. “You don’t mean it.”

“Is it so hard to believe?” he asked, swinging his legs off the bed, which only made her move back another step. “That I’d love a magnificent woman of strength and substance?”

But he felt it again, that he was pushing too hard. That he wasn’t giving her enough space.

And sure enough, her hand flew to her mouth. “You don’t want me,” she said through her fingers.

He forced himself to sit back down. “You don’t know that. I do want you.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to believe you…”

He let out a long breath of air. They were getting nowhere. He’d left men following him and soon he’d have to return to London and finish the job he’d begun. Capturing Whitehouse.

He might have to accept that Tabbie was not going to agree to his proposal this trip, that he’d have to try again when she returned to London for the season.

He pushed up from the bed and she took another step back. Holding out his hand, he softly spoke, “No need to back away. I’ll leave.”

“Leave where?” He heard it then. The fear. She wasn’t ready to share her deepest hurt, but she was afraid of losing him too.

She’d been trying to say that. That if she shared, he’d decide she wasn’t worthy.

His shoulders softened. “Just to my room. I’m making you uncomfortable and I’m trying to give you the time and space you need to feel safe and comfortable.”

“Oh, Caden.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You’re worth waiting for. In a few days, I’ll have to return to London and try to apprehend the man who sent his goons to shoot me. I just need you to know that when I go, I’m not giving up.”

And then he turned and walked toward the connecting door.

He’d give her all the time she needed. Even if it killed him.