Page 60 of Pride: The Rogue
He stood slowly, unfurling all six feet, three or four inches of himself, and knocking her further off balance with his nearness.
Unlike Livian, whose every nerve ending remained keenly alert of even Lachlan’s slightest movement, he considered the confidence he still held in his strong, scarred fingers, while Livian’s movements obviously remained an afterthought to him.
Her mouth went dry—not with fear; fear would be far less terror-inducing than these wanton yearnings stirred inside from nothing more than his body’s closeness.
“They were like brothers,” he said gruffly.
She looked at him, waiting for him to speak, and giving him the space and comfort he needed in which to do so.
Her efforts were rewarded when he continued. “Notlike. To me theywerebrothers. I would have done anything for them, and I believed they’d do anything for me. I never felt judged bythem for being of inferior birth, and to me, that was everything, so I never saw it coming.”
“Saw what coming?” Livian murmured.
“That I was and would always be an outsider.” His features turned grim. “They welcomed me into their fold, asked me to lead the way in establishing the club, tasked me, and trusted me with the entire security operation.”
His sightless, rage-filled eyes went all the way through Livian, and she knew the exact moment he ceased to see her, and instead played over and over in his mind, the betrayal that’d so hurt him.
“In the end, what did they do?” A sneer pulled hard at Lachlan’s mouth—a mouth that’d both tenderly and passionately devoured her own. “They went behind my back and decided to bring on a new fellow to fill my role. A man who didn’t have sullied bloodlines or dirty hands.”
He chuckled; that droll rumble bereft of any actual amusement. “At least, not dirty in the same way mine were. He was a lord, and me? I was expendable,” he murmured, to himself.
Her heart ached. He’d hate any apologies from her; he’d see them as pity, which she didn’t. She was outraged, disgusted, infuriated, on his behalf, but never would she pity him.
Lachlan Latimer was a proud, guarded, man, who didn’t trust easily, and well, maybe not even at all.
But he trustedyouwith this, a voice whispered in her head. Selfish in the face of his pain, she couldn’t keep back the lightness that filled her and the indignant fury on his behalf.
“They didn’t deserve you, Lachlan,” she said simply, and his gaze found its way back to Livian.
She took a small breath. “And I know it’s easier for me to say this and sounds like utter rubbish… it is better you learned who theyactuallywere as friends and partners, then spend the restof your life with mensolacking in integrity, so arrogant,” she said. Despite her best attempts, her voice grew more and more impassioned. “Sounappreciativeand dishonorable they aren’t fit to clean the boots you earned with your own hard work and skills; at that, ones you didn’t have handed down to you like every last estate, pence, pound, and parcel of land in their lives.”
Lachlan opened his mouth to speak, but she couldn’t make herself stop her rant if she tried. “And for that matter? That club theywelcomedyou to invest in, the club crafted in your vision? They may have had more funds with which to put up, but those coins, too, came from their family’s purses.”
Fury continued to course through her. “Oh, and they no doubt hold themselves up as ‘self-made’ men?” she sneered. “But had it not been for their titles, they’d have never had a single pound to contribute to the construction of Forbidden Pleasures. In fact, had they been forced to live so much as a single night on the streets as you did, they’d have perished like that.” She snapped her fingers.
That little click split the quiet of the room and also snapped Livian from her furious musings.
Lachlan gave her a curious look.
Her cheeks burning hot, Livian let her arm drop to her side.
Flustered by her impassioned response, she cleared her throat. “Yes, well, all that to again say, you are better off,” she finished weakly.
“Once I have my share, I’m investing in a new venture,” he said.
The unexpectedness of his latest trust in Livian broke through her embarrassment. She gave a firm nod. “Good for you, Lachlan.”
Of course, hard-working, resolute, and driven, he wouldneversimply roll over.
“It’s another gaming hell, this one, even more wicked,” he said.
Did he expect or try to horrify and shock her? Or maybe it was that he sought to dim some of her earlier praise and admiration for him and what he did. He’d be disappointed by the truth—if that was what he attempted to do, it was for naught.
“I’m entering into it with a new partner but this time I’m doing so after having learned an important lesson.”
“What lesson is that?”
“Never trust a nob,” he murmured, directing that admission to the folded letter in his hands.
