A Rake's Heart (Count Series) Read online

  Then just as quickly, her eyes narrowed in the dark. Why could it not have been a full moon tonight? The first sign something was different about the rider bearing down on her was the expanse of broad shoulders and height.

  The earl was a tall man in his own right, but this rider—not only sat higher in the saddle, but was much wider. His hair nearly as dark as the night. A jolt of amazement caused her to gasp.

  A brilliant swell of elation fired rapid beats to her heart. Fairly shivered at the sight before her. She blinked a few times to be sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. Her breath seized in her throat. No, it couldn’t be.

  The elegantly dressed man atop her guardian’s prized steed was none other than Coltin Ratherton, Lord Brigham. His ash-blue eyes looked black in the twilight as he slowed and edged his horse to a halt a few paces away from where she stood. Then he dismounted in a seamless flourish.

  Drenched in feelings and every emotion imaginable, she could do nothing but stare at him in stunned silence at first.

  Fairly allowed her gaze to travel over him, from his polished to spit-shine black hessians, up over his muscled thighs, over his narrow waist to the top of his head, unabashedly.

  Ratherton’s tall form and the breadth of his frame had been what had attracted her to him when they’d first met, long before that night he’d introduced her to her first taste of unforgettable passion.

  Everything about him she adored. His black hair, that wayward strand that curled just so over his left temple, made her fingers itch to curl it around her forefinger as she’d done that night long ago.

  When he spoke, breathing heavily, that deep voice that haunted her dreams nightly reached out across the distance like a strong vine and assured her that what she was seeing was very, very real.

  “I recall another night ride like this,” he said as his long fingers slowly petted down the strong neck of her guardian’s horse.

  “That was long ago,” Fairly retorted. All her pent up emotion over the past three years, barely restrained, lashed out in those few words like missiles at him. Damn him! How dare he look so devilishly handsome and so wickedly good? His words, like a hot silken stroke down her own throat.

  Coltin straightened back his shoulders to cover his wince at the venom in her tone. That night had been like yesterday for him and he told her so. At first, she seemed happy, surprised, yes, but pleased to see him.

  The beautiful girl he remembered was gone and in her place stood a goddess. Fairly had blossomed into the stunning creature he’d imagined. More than he’d imagined.

  By god, it was a wonder she hadn’t had half the randy young bucks beating down the earl’s door to make her theirs. How Pierce had won her hand, Coltin had no idea. The fellow must be special indeed. A nerve along his jaw twitched at that thought. What did it matter? He did not care.

  What had whirled in his mind the past two days, the decision had come to a halt at the sight of her and he now had his answer. No one would be marrying Fairly Synclair of Carrsel but him. Even if she didn’t want to, he’d stay until she agreed.

  The dark cap pulled down over her head would have hid her face from him had she not proudly lifted her chin in an attempt to look down her aristocratic nose at him, despite the feet and inches he had on her. Coltin forced back his grin at her haughty endeavor.

  Her face tilted just right in the minimal light shining down from the scarce moon, just the right amount upon her upturned face. A creamy complexion, brushed by the tender stroke of a sun’s ray enhanced her large amber-gold eyes surrounded by light long lashes. Her slender, curved at the tip cute nose sat above those succulent blush-colored lips he remembered vividly sliding over his own that night, parted now, and the pink tip of her tongue touched her teeth.

  The sight made him suck in a shaky breath remembering the delicious things that mouth had done to him. His cock stirred and he bit back a groan. Her mouthwatering curves were outlined to perfection in the getup she wore. The dark night could not hide how shapely her legs and thighs were. The shirt she wore, open at the throat, teased a glimpse of her long neck and collarbone. He had to force himself to tear his gaze away from the swell of her breasts and back up to her face.

  Sweet lips, he adored, twitched then broke into a shaky half-smile before wavering as she struggled to hide her delight over seeing him. Or was it that she had noticed the affect she had on him? Coltin was not sure which, but he was damn glad he’d caught it.

  In her eyes…ah, there, she could not hide the truth, the hope, the excitement then the sadness that raked over him like hot coals.

  Now, those cool amber-gold eyes narrowed on him. The reins of her fine horse wrapped in one hand. The stallion stepped sideways. The woman who haunted his every waking moment since the bloody day he’d left her looked ready to tuck tail, leap back into the saddle, and flee.

  Not this time, Coltin declared. He had been the one who had left. Flown from her side the last time. Fierce determination settled in his gut. She would have to tell him outright she no longer had feelings for him. That she was not haunted by that night they had shared.

  “Fairly,” he said softly, “will you not hear me out?” Her silence cut him. Coltin swallowed and pushed past a choking breath. “Are you not in the least curious as to why I’m here two nights before you are to be wed?”

  Fairly stared back at him. She couldn’t help herself. She hated him. Loathed him. Loved him. He’d left her to face the cold hard slap of the Town alone. That humiliation had been insufferable. And dammit, unforgivable.

  He looked virile, healthy and just as stunningly handsome as he’d been back then. A breathtaking, no-good, heart-stealing blackguard. Yet she could not deny she wanted him—still. By god, was he not the reason she was making a run for it tonight? Yes. Because her groom-to-be had not been him? Yes.

  The anguish she’d heard in his tone made her ache and she glanced away.

  He had left her when she needed him the most.

  A mix of pain and joy seared her chest. Hell, she was more than curious why he was suddenly here. Her heart was already racing and going in directions she was afraid to even think about or hope for.

  Why was he here? How? She wanted to hold onto the heartache he’d left her with, but at the very sight of him, Fairly realized just how much she truly still loved the man.

  It burned like hot oil in her belly. Any lingering doubts that might have been floating about were put out by his large looming presence. The ten feet of space between them was half grass and dirt, yet, it felt like a sea of hot lust. Fairly tightened the leather reins around her hands as if that would stop them from shaking.

  Her breath came, unsteady, uneven and try as she might she could not tear her gaze from the sight of him. All the while, her traitorous mind wishing that they were alone so he could ravish her to his heart content. Not for one second did she feel ashamed over her wicked thoughts. She’d paid the ultimate price for much less. He was here and that was all that mattered. Dammit!

  They were close to alone. They were far enough from the mansion, but close enough to the stables. Still, the possibility a stable hand or her groom, Bishop might see. Licking her lips, Fairly made a quick suggestion.

  “Will you come take a ride with me?”

  He did not hesitate one beat. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  His words stopped the breath in her throat. Her hands shook as she wrapped the reins around her hand tighter. She needed to focus. To think. She wanted to hear what he had to say. She needed to get them away from here first. Then and only then, would she allow herself to succumb to the heat behind his words.

  Moreover, she needed to address something first.

  “You can come with me on one condition.”

  “What is it?”

  She had expected him to laugh or throw her words back in her face. Hence, his question startled her a bit. She replied, “No lies, Coltin. The truth. Both of us must promise to be truthful with one another from this mome
nt forward. Are you capable of making that promise?”

  Fairly knew the true meaning behind her words rapped him, for his lips thinned and the skin around them whitened. She knew he knew what she was truly asking. He had left her without a single word back then.

  “Yes. I promise.”

  “Good.” She released a tight breath, then half turned and began to unwrapped the reins from around her smarting hands. Even with the riding gloves, she knew her hands would be red.

  “Fairly, I need to hear you promise as well.”

  Fairly felt color itch up her throat. She blinked, then recovered quickly and turned to stare at him. “I promise to be honest,” she affirmed.

  A handsome contented smile was his response. Shaking, Fairly turned and put her foot in the stirrup. Blasted arrogant man.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  He knew his words had stunned her into silence, as she was quiet the rest of the time until they reached their destination. Coltin smiled in the darkness.

  When they passed the Sutton guesthouse, his heart beat faster. There was nothing but fields and an open glen after that and only one other building.

  A building he expected to have been burnt to cinders.

  She didn’t look back once to see if he still followed. Her confidence told him again how she had changed.

  When the cottage came into view, even in the night, the moon hardly at its brightest, Coltin could see someone had clearly, lovingly kept up with the upkeep of it.

  Flowerbeds, a side garden, wooden chairs on the sloped porch, a rug over the railing and a new door, painted black. He drew up short, unconsciously jerking hard on the reins as it struck him who.

  He watched Fairly dismount and tether her precious Bea to a tree next to a trough. After that, she righted her clothes. The leather riding gloves she wore slid down over her body and Coltin followed her every movement like an enchanted fool. She had no idea the affect her innocent action had on him.

  He was already struggling from watching her ride ahead of him. She’d not ridden sidesaddle. He had tried to keep his mind from straying to the picture his mind had conjured up of what part of him he wished she’d been riding on. His aching erection jerked inside his trousers.

  After entering the small cottage, Fairly took down one of the glass oil lamps hanging from a carved hook on the wall beside the door. She struck the long stick match down the side of the wall, then set it to the candlewick inside, then perched the lamp atop the roughhewn table in the middle of the open room. When it glimmered brightly, she turned the little gold knob at the glass base to dim it a little. She moved to grab the second one, but Coltin beat her to it.

  Their eyes met as he struck the match and lit the wick inside the second lamp. Fairly swallowed. Something powerful, hot and charged, flared up between as the flame caught and bloomed. She swallowed, her eyes locked on his.

  “Where should I put this one?”

  His deep husky voice threw her. “What?” she began, startled out of the passionate fog. “Oh! The-the bedroom. Oh, the—in-in there,” she quickly corrected, her cheeks flaming as hot as the candle. His expression and grin only made her redden more as he brushed past her.

  Fairly sucked in a deep breath. A mistake. For his scent, a nice spice cologne, masculine and clean, filled her senses. She shut the cottage door and her eyes at the same time, then pressed her forehead to the dry cool wood.

  Coltin took in the surroundings of the small cozy cottage as he stood in the small bedroom. The bed was different, larger, and could easily fit two people comfortably. Unlike the one he remembered, that had barely provided enough space for them both three years ago.

  A medium-sized round wooden pedestal table and four matching cushioned chairs stood in the middle of the first room with a decorative vase atop it. A single floral patterned wing chair and matching ottoman sat in front of the fireplace.

  The last time he was here, the interior had been one complete continuous room. It still was, except now, a large partition—a black screen—stood floor to ceiling, giving the effect of two separate rooms.

  When he reentered the front room he watched her for some time, her back still to him and her head against the door. He clenched his teeth at the sight of her well-rounded derriere outlined in the body hugging trousers. She must have felt his eyes on her for she turned and their gazes collided. She moistened her lips and damned if he didn’t feel like a fist had just slammed into his gut. Hell and damnation!

  “Your sister…How is she faring?” she asked him, a nervous treble laced her voice.

  He told her how he’d accompanied Britwen here. She remained quiet. He remained near the screen for he feared that if he took a step, she just might change her mind, regret that she had invited him here. That now that they were alone, she just might open that damn door and flee.

  He asked her how she was doing. She nodded and glanced to the floor at his feet. Coltin waited. When she uttered not a single word, he asked her again.

  “How are you? Really?”

  Her pained expression told him that she knew what he was asking. Her grief-stricken expression confirmed it. The grief over the loss of her parents hovered over her, most likely daily, Coltin suspected. He was not surprised. She’d been the Synclair’s only child and they had doted on her. With more time, it would get easier for her. That time just was not here yet.

  “I miss them, terribly,” came her pained reply, the words almost a sob in her throat.

  Coltin’s heart pained for her. He almost wished he’d not asked, but he needed to know. She looked away, but not before he glimpsed the swell of tears in her eyes. He resisted the urge to take her into his arms.

  He was aware of the rumors behind their deaths. Jonathan Paxton had murdered Rosamund and Tristan Synclair. No ties to the family save his obsession with Lady Rosamund and his ongoing rivalry with Tristan. A rivalry Paxton had been unable to shake.

  His vengeance against the man who he deemed had stolen the woman he imagined to be his future wife, had paid the ultimate price. That he had killed Rosamund too, none understood.

  Rumors ran amuck about that also. One was, that when Paxton had sat in the tree outside her parents’ window, the couple had been making love, and seeing the act had sent him into a murderous rage, some said. How true or not that was, Coltin had no idea.

  What he detested most, was that those same rumors had reached Fairly’s ears. She had suffered and grieved enough, and to have such gossip upon their lives, only made it worse.

  Swift justice had been denied to her, for Lord Paxton had also eaten his pistol after he’d committed the crime. Coltin was just thankful the man hadn’t gone down the hall to finish off the massacre by shooting her.

  He listened as she spoke quietly about them and shared her loving childhood memories with him.

  His father was still alive, ailing, but alive and well, up in the Brigham estate and being cared for with round the clock care. His father’s title-seeking, darling, little mistress by his side.

  His sister Britwen and their father had never gotten on well. After their mothers’ untimely passing a few years back, the father daughter thread had thinned even more. Coltin had no hard feelings toward his father. The old man had been a good father, done what he’d needed.

  He knew deep down in his heart, Britwen loved the earl. She just disagreed with the number of women their father had paraded under their mothers’ nose.

  Nevertheless, to lose both parents in such a horrific way and at such a tender age, Coltin could not help but feel sympathy for Fairly. She had no one left, no sister, no brother, no living uncles or aunts. Just her guardians.

  She looked back at him, her eyes clear and narrowed on him. He could see right through her brave front, but he respected her effort. He opened his mouth to talk about the other thing driving him out of his mind.

  “Tell me about Pierce Wainbridge.”

  “We have a few things in common, I suppose,” Fairly said, her eyes downcast.

&n
bsp; Coltin’s brows shot up. “You suppose?” he asked, his tone a surprising grumble.

  Amber-gold eyes pinned him with a solemn glance. She nodded.

  Coltin exhaled. “Enlighten me. Name some of these few things.”

  “Well…”

  The silence was so thick, heavy, the sound of their breathing seemed tenfold. Coltin waited, not realizing he was holding his breath. Finally she spoke.

  “Like riding…no, wait. Pierce likes to be driven. Oh, oh,” she said excitably as she wagged a finger at him, “yes, yes! We enjoy reading!” A frown crossed her flushed face as she tapped a finger to her chin. “No, that’s not quite right either. He likes to be read to.”

  Coltin, a hand on his hip as he walked from one end of the room to the other in front of her, his temper and envy mingling. “Is that all?” he asked testily.

  She skirted around him to the small fireplace. Tendrils of her blonde hair, that had come loose from her braid, caressed her face as she whipped around to pin him with a haughty glare. “No,” she replied, sharply, indignation in her voice and plopped herself down in the wing chair.

  Coltin stopped about two feet in front of her. He knew his presence unsettled her just as hers did him simply by being so close to one another. He needed to keep his mind on what was at hand instead of what his body wanted to do. He stared down into her upturned lovely face. “I’m waiting,” he bit out.

  She crossed her arms over her chest in a great huff, fire in her amber-gold eyes as she glowered up at him. “Keep waiting! What does it matter how many things? We’re engaged. Everyone thinks we suit. That is enough.”

  “Is that all that matters? What everyone else thinks?” he asked and leaned forward over her.

  Their glares warred with one another. Coltin noticed the mist of tears in her eyes.

  Fairly fought the urge to reach up and squeeze the burn from her nose because of the tears she was fighting to hold back. Damn him! “Don’t. It’s the right thing,” she told him, unable to look away.