Page 586 of From Rakes to Riches

Without haste, he pushed off the bed and came to his bare feet. Gemma tried not to watch from beneath her eyelashes, truly she did, but here he was—all naked, magnificent man. Article by article of clothing, he hid himself away, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Once he was dressed, his gaze shifted and met hers directly. Within shone knowledge. He’d known she’d been furtively watching, and he’d let himself be watched. He’d let her see what she would be missing.

The heat of mortification flared through her, and she cleared her throat. “Until race day.”

A slow tick of time beat by before he gave a single nod and turned toward the door. He placed his hand on the handle, but he didn’t twist it. Instead, he pivoted, determination in his eyes and in his step as he closed the few feet between them. Gemma only comprehended his intention the instant before he took her in his arms and kissed her as if with the entirety of his being.

Kissed her until her legs wobbled beneath her and threatened to give way.

Then he released her, jerked the door open, and was gone.

Leaving her standing in the middle of the bedroom, dazed, fingertips pressed lightly to kiss-crushed lips.

Leaving her kissed silly.

Leaving her with the urge to chase him down and grab him and kisshimsilly.

An urge she suppressed.

She should leave, came a more reasonable thought.

But that thought, too, she suppressed.

She couldn’t be reasonable when it came to Rake. That was what she was coming to understand about herself.

Increasingly, she felt herself pulled toward the unreasonable.

She wanted him, and it had begun occurring to her that she might want him more than she wanted her freedom.

No.

Her mother had been a lord’s mistress, and her entire being had centered around pleasing that man. Over time, it had broken her mother down.

Gemma had long vowed she wouldn’t live that way.

She mustn’t give in to the fantasy of a future with the Duke of Rakesley.

The reality was she’d nearly attained all she’d been striving for to secure a future for herself and for Liam.

The reality was she’d betrayed the man who tempted her into fantasies.

And if—when—he ever found out, he would come to despise her and want naught more to do with her.

That was reality—her reality.

She mustn’t forget.

20

NEWMARKET, SIX DAYS LATER

Gemma stood before the full-length mirror and gave her scrubbed-up self a final once-over, her cheeks flushed from the rough washcloth and eyes still bright from Hannibal’s training runs this afternoon.

It had taken a few days for Hannibal to become accustomed to Newmarket’s Rowley Mile, as he didn’t like change, but today had gone well. Where he’d been tight in the shoulders yesterday, he’d stretched out freely and hit his stride at pace today.

He was ready.

And judging from the looks she’d caught from the blacklegs observing the course, they understood they needed to be ready for him. She was certain the odds on Hannibal had already dropped. But if the odds didn’t improve, that would tell her something—the blacklegs had a plan to stop Hannibal from winning.

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