The Rake (Boston Belles #4) by L.J. Shen

This made her break down in tears. She buried her head in the linen next to my legs, her whole body quivering with sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Devon. I screwed everything up, didn’t I?”

“Oh, shush, darling. Of course not.” I made an effort to move my hand—and this time succeeded—stroking her hair.

For the record she absolutely did cock up, but I was being a gentleman about it.

“Also, what are you referring to exactly, when you say you screwed everything up?” I cleared my throat.

She looked up, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve, sniffling. “I took a check from Louisa …” She hiccupped.

“I know.” I continued to stroke her cheek. “She told me.”

“And then I left you without even explaining myself.”

“Yes. Yes. I was there for the entire show, remember?” I grinned.

She stopped. Tilted her head. Frowned.

“Devon, why aren’t you mad at me?” she demanded. “It is not okay for you to accept this kind of behavior. What are you, a doormat?”

“A doormat, no,” I said, amused, “but I am in love with a woman who suffered severe trauma when she was a wee girl. Love has failed you many times. You were never shy about it. I was the one who pushed you out of your comfort zone.”

“My comfort zone sucked.” She elevated an eyebrow, looking more and more like herself. I tried hard not to laugh, tilting my head against the pillow as I studied her.

“I know, Sweven.”

“I thought you’d never call me that anymore.” Her eyes filled with fresh tears.

“Why?” Now I did laugh.

“Because I told you to marry someone else.”

“I don’t know how to break this to you…” I laced my fingers in hers “…but not every single thing you are going to tell me to do will be followed through dutifully.”

There was contemplative silence, in which both of us realized we were lucky to be here, in this room, alive.

“I burned the check,” she sniffed, finally.

“I know.” I had no doubt in my mind she’d spurn taking money from Louisa, even if she had been tempted for a moment or two. Which was why I kept fighting for her, even when things were looking dreadful. “Why are you in a wheelchair?”

“Hospital policy.”

“Why didn’t you use the gun?” I asked out of nowhere.

She flinched. It took us both back to that scene, when Frank attacked her.

“I was too afraid I’d accidentally kill you. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“And also…” she drew a breath, closing her eyes “…my hands are far from clean in this department.” She opened her eyes again, and she looked different this time. Complex, powerful, dangerous. A Valkyrie. I swore she stood six inches taller than me in that moment. “I know the consequences and complexities of taking a life. I didn’t want to do it unless I absolutely had to.” She hoisted herself up on the bed, nestling next to me. Her hard, round stomach pressed against my side. My cock immediately stood up in appreciation. She laced her arms over me, careful not to touch my shoulder, and pressed her mouth to my ear.

“Devon Whitehall, you’re the most gorgeous, funny, smart, witty, bougie man on planet Earth, and I’m madly in love with you. Have been from the moment our paths crossed. And it pains me to say that I don’t think any man could ever measure up to you, which is why I might as well stop fighting this.”

“Bloody right.” I turned to kiss her lips softly. “Sweven.”

“No,” she said.

I pulled away from her, frowning. “You don’t know what I was about to ask.”

“Yes, I do, and the answer is no. I want to ask you that. But I want to do it properly. On one knee.” Belle pursed her lips.

“There are far more interesting things you can do on your knees for me, sweetheart. Permit me this indulgence.”

“No can do, hottie.” She leaned in to kiss my nose then gave it a mocking bite. “I love you, though.”

“Love you too.”

“Devon …” she hesitated. Oh no, I thought. I couldn’t take more.

“Yes, my love?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“Frank is not the only person I’ve killed in my life. I just want to come clean, before we take the next step.”

Shite. Well, if there was a body we needed to get rid of, I suppose that was just the way it was going to be. Personally, I wasn’t a fan of people being killed, for any reason, but for Belle … well, I mean, what could a man do?

“I’ll take care of it,” I clipped.

She looked at me funnily then began to laugh. What was so funny? But then she said, “No, no. It’s not recent. It happened a long time ago. It was the person who abused me.”

“Your dad?” I asked confused.

Now she looked disordered. “My dad? He didn’t abuse me.”

“I thought you two had a weird relationship.”

“Yeah. I held a grudge because he cheated on my mom.”

“Oh,” I said for lack of a better answer. “So, tell me about the other person.”