Heaven Scent (27 page)

She ducked away.

Shutting his eyes, Rafe cursed mentally
as she walked past. He hated when his gut was right.

“Actually, I am here to offer you a
proposition.”

Turning to face her, Rafe crossed his
arms over his chest. He wasn‘t sure if he was ready for this or
not. “Go on.”

“I would like to hire you to… lobby the
legislators for the college.”

Rafe’s mouth fell open. After all that
had transpired -- or not transpired -- between them in the last
week, she was here to petition his help for the college?

“That’s why you’re here? To solicit my
help for the college?”

She looked away. “Yes.”

Anger and hurt made his heart pound. He
let out a bitter harrumph. “No.”

Her gaze shot to his. “No? You will not
even consider it?”

“No.” Lowering his arms, he walked
towards the door. “Is there anything else?”

Planting her fists on her hips, she
raised her voice. “Why?”

“Why?!” He couldn’t believe she would
ask. “I have done all but stand on my head trying to convince you
to renew our engagement. You have told me in no uncertain terms you
do not want to marry me. Forgive me if I don’t possess the
enthusiasm you seek.”

Her face flushed a deep red. “Of
course, you do not possess any enthusiasm. You are a man, free to
do as you please in life.” Her nostrils flared. “As a woman, I have
two choices: Get married or live life as a spinster. I cannot run a
shipping business or become a financier. I cannot travel the
country alone or sail the seas.” She approached the door where he
stood. “I have the opportunity for a third choice, Rafe. I will not
lose that chance without a fight.”

With her green eyes ablaze, and her
face flush with anger, she was a sight to behold. Passion consumed
her, determination a shield of protection.

God above, he loved her
spirit.

“
I have told you why I
cannot marry you. Do you think it is easy for me?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I
do.”

Her mouth hung open. “How can you say
such a thing? In your note, you say I have won.” She pointed at her
chest. “I have won nothing, Rafe. I have lost you and I am on the
verge of losing this college.” Her shoulders slumped. “What do I
have left?”

He shook his head. “You become a
warrior when it comes to fighting for this college, Tarin. Yet, you
take the coward’s way when it comes to our marriage.”

Her eyes widened as though he had poked
her between them. “Coward’s way?” she cried. “This college does not
have the ability to hurt me. Should it be denied, I will be
disappointed, yes. But my love for you has the potential to destroy
me and I will not take that chance.” She reached past him to the
doorknob. “If this is the ambiance of winning, I do not want to
lose.” She turned the knob.

He slammed it shut above her
head.

She loved him.
Thank you, God.

Turning her to face him, he picked her
up by the waist and twirled her around.

“Rafe!” She clutched his shoulders.
“What are you doing?”

Pulling her mouth down to his, he
kissed her hard on the mouth and set her on the floor. “Kissing my
fiancée.”

Shaking her head as if to clear it, she
said, “What? No…”

Pulling her into his arms, he kissed
her again, this time longer and slower. He felt her sigh on his
chin. “Yes. And you can even set the date - as long as its no later
than Friday.”

“Friday? That’s four days
away.”

She wasn’t fighting it anymore. He
smiled as he trailed kisses down her throat. “Umm, hmm…”

“No, Rafe.” She clutched his face in
her hands, her fingers running through his beard. “Not unless you
promise not to take unnecessary chances.” Her voice, though soft,
shook with urgency. “Promise me you will not die.”

Taking her hands in his, he kissed her
fingertips. His next words were crucial. He had to speak wisely. “I
promise not to take unnecessary chances. And I will pray that we
die together. For Tarin,” he said, kissing her forehead, “I could
not bear to see your death either.”

She stared at him, her face giving
nothing away. Rafe worried that his words, though sincere, did not
sway her. His heart stopped in his chest when the silence
lingered.

“Mr. Sutherland, you will have a wife
by Friday.”

His heart started up again in double
time. “You are certain? No more changing your mind?”

She shook her head. “I am
certain.”

Suddenly, Rafe found himself on the end
of one of her sole-burning kisses, her mouth leaving no doubt of
where her thoughts lie.

The same place his were - in his bed.
He wanted to carry her up those stairs and take her like the madman
he held in check. He wanted to bury himself to the hilt inside her
and finally claim her as his wife.

Would he ever get that
chance?

The clock chimed six. Setting her away
from him, he grabbed her hand and led her out into the foyer. “I’m
sorry to cut this short, sweetheart, but I’ve got to move
along.”

She frowned up at him, her eyes a bit
unfocused. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got some legislators to visit.”
He grinned at her. “I can’t see them like this.” He motioned
towards his clothes.

Mouth agape, she threw her arms around
his neck and kissed him. “You would do that?”

“Of course.” He pulled her mouth to his
again.

“I see you two have
reconciled.”

Groaning, Rafe pulled away to stare at
his brother. He stood just inside the door with Rosa on his
arm.

“We have.” He hugged Tarin against
him.

Tarin wrapped her arms around his
waist. “Good evening, Patrick. Rosa. Yes, I have been given the
task of scheduling our wedding - anytime before Friday.”

“Friday?” they said in
unison.

Rafe nodded as he set her away from
him. “Yes. You will entertain Tarin until I get back?”

“Where are you going?” Patrick raised a
brow.

“He is going to solicit votes from the
legislators for the college.” She gazed up at him with a proud
smile. “We are in dire straits at the moment and they vote
tomorrow.”

Wrinkling his nose, Patrick made a
face. “I hope you plan to bathe and dress presentably.”

Rafe blew out a frustrated breath. “You
will make a fine mother some day, Patrick.”

The women laughed.

Patrick gave him a look that would
scare a lesser man. “If you do not mind, I would like to go with
you.”

Tarin gasped. Rosa whipped her head
around to stare at Patrick.

He stared at her, taking in her every
feature. “Rosa has expressed an interest in the college as well.
She would have to receive English instruction, but I am willing to
help with that.” He turned to face Rafe.

Rosa turned his face back to hers and
kissed him full on the mouth. Rafe laughed to himself when Patrick
wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.

“It appears there may be two weddings
in the Sutherland household,” Tarin said with a soft
voice.

“Indeed, it does.” Releasing her, he
headed for the study. He had to let them know he wouldn’t be
returning to the poker game.

He had his own game to play. And he
wasn’t going to stop until he had defeated Kent.

Chapter 15

“You’d think the man was headed to the
guillotine rather than marrying the most sought after woman in
Boston.”

Sitting at the desk, writing a contract
for a new clothing merchant, Rafe heard Patrick’s ribbing but
didn’t acknowledge it. His wedding was Friday, less than two days
away. He should be happy.

He was doing his damndest not to think
about it.

Tarin, on the other hand, glowed from
within. After receiving word that the college had been approved, he
could do no wrong in her eyes. She had become more eager than ever
to share his bed and had even admitted to the priest, Father
Finnegan, that she was anxious to start a family.

Rafe blew out a breath as he tossed his
pen on the desk. He had to tell her. He had to show her his scars.
After all they had been through, he could not marry her without
revealing them.

“Your brother is justified in his
worry,” Beau commented as he sat studying the newspaper. “He is
used to having the upper hand with women. With Lady Worthington, he
is at his most vulnerable.”

Leave it to the damned Frenchman to
land the hardest blow. Rafe gritted his teeth against the worry
that sat on his shoulders like an anchor.

“Why?” Patrick smirked as he lounged on
the sofa, one leg thrown on the center table. “Because she’s
prettier than he is?”

Beau lowered the newspaper to frown at
Patrick before looking at Rafe. Some days his brother was a real
ass. Then again, he hadn’t seen Rafe’s scars.

Beau had seen the fresh
wounds.

Patrick angled his head to meet Rafe’s
eyes. “What? You think your scars will scare Tarin
away?”

Rafe swallowed hard as he looked down
at his lap.

Sitting up, Patrick gave a brief laugh
of disbelief. “Surely, you jest?“

When Rafe didn’t reply, Patrick began
his tirade. “Do you have any idea just how many men have offered
for her hand?”

Rafe’s body tensed further.

“Handsome, rich, witty, intelligent -
she has had them all. And has turned down every one.” Patrick rose
to stand in front of the desk. Placing his hands on top, he leaned
over Rafe. “Tarin is a woman of her own mind, Rafe. You know that.
Give her more credit. She loves you. She would not have agreed to
marry you, otherwise. Your scars are irrelevant.”

Irrelevant? Anger and pent-up
frustration hit Rafe’s brain and shot to his nerve endings. He
heaved for breath. Clenched his hands into fists.

Jumping up from his seat,
he leaned into Patrick‘s face. “Irrelevant?
Irrelevant
?!”

Patrick‘s eyes widened.

“What do you know, you
coddled bastard?” He proceeded to unbutton his vest. “Have you hung
from an Indian’s rope with bullet holes in your body?” He tossed
the vest to the floor. “Have you had men, women,
children
curse you…” He
unbuttoned his shirt. “…spit on you, slap you, while, one by one,
they slice the skin from your body?” Rafe swallowed as he whipped
off his shirt. “Look at this and tell me again it is
irrelevant.”

He watched as horror and repulsion
played across his brother’s shocked, blotchy face. Patrick couldn’t
pull his eyes from Rafe‘s torso.

“Well, brother? What do you
think? Do you still think she could love me?” He grabbed Patrick by
the cravat and pulled him to within an inch of his face.
“Could
you
love
me? Like this?”

Patrick did nothing but stare at him
with pity and remorse.

“Well? What do you have to say now?”
Rafe shoved him away. “Let me guess - you’re sorry. Or, you don’t
know what to say. Right?”

Patrick’s eyes locked with his. His
features turned to stone. Nostrils flaring, he came around the desk
and shoved Rafe against the wall. It took all Rafe had not to hit
him.

“You
sonova
bitch
!”
Patrick shoved him again. “You accuse me of pity when you carry
enough to fill the blasted room. Yes, your scars are hideous and,
for what its worth, I
am
sorry that it happened to you.” He planted his
hands on his hips. “But coddled? You arrogant bastard.
I
am the one that took
over the reins when you decided to feed your rebellion.
I
am the one that had to
live with a father that compared me to you
every single day
after you left.” He
pointed a thumb at his chest. “
I
am the one that had to console mother when father
died, and I have worked my fingers to the
bone
trying to save Sutherland
Shipping from ruin.” His breathing was labored.
“
Me
, Rafe. Not
you.” He pointed at Rafe. “Don‘t ever question my manhood again or
you will find yourself face up on the floor.”

Rafe could do nothing but stare at his
brother. Beau stood just beyond Patrick’s shoulder, ready to step
in. Rafe never would’ve guessed Patrick had such passion. Rosa had
been a good influence.

Proud of his brother for standing up to
him, Rafe had to admit he was right - to a certain degree. He did
feel sorry for himself and had not given Patrick the credit he
deserved.

But their future was also on the line.
Without Henry’s deal, they could face bankruptcy. Regardless of his
feelings, he had to marry Tarin. Everything hinged on her reaction
to him.