Page 68 of The Last Chance
She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm. “Saving yourself must be your priority now. Don’t let the devil beat you. Don’t die, Aaron. The world needs strong men like you.”
Strong? He felt as weak as a kitten.
“And you must be a good girl,” he teased, “not a mischievous imp.”
“I’ll try.” She inhaled deeply a few times. “Open the door.”
He obliged, raising a hand to the constable before taking Joanna in his arms. He took her mouth, anchoring her to him like she was his life force, like his heart would stop beating without her, like his lungs would be depleted of air.
He tasted her salty tears. Felt the agonising torment in every deep plunge of her tongue. Inhaled the sweet scent of roses on her skin. Heard every desperate sigh. Knew she wouldn’t stop kissing him, and he must be the one to break contact.
“Follow Sigmund’s instructions,” he said.
She cupped his bristled cheek. “I pray I’ll see you again.”
“You must believe it’s possible. Now go before the constable grows suspicious. And giggle like you’ve just had the ride of your life.”
He would never forget her parting smile.
One of pleasure tinged with immense sorrow.
“Same time tomorrow, minx,” he called.
She laughed and waved. “You might last longer next time.”
Aaron stood in the doorway, watching until she entered The Saracen’s Head, the crushing ache in his chest a sensation he had never known. He didn’t breathe again until Sigmund drove the hackney cab out of the yard, and the vehicle disappeared into the blackness.
He closed the door, resting his forehead on the wood.
Seconds passed as memories of their last days together repeated like a well-loved play—a kaleidoscope of unforgettable moments.
“It’s obvious you’re in love with her,” Delphine said, closing the gap between them and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We always teased you about it, but I’ve never witnessed a greater display of love in my life.”
Aaron pushed away from the door and faced Delphine, the pain in his throat making it hard to speak. “Loving someone isn’t always about happy endings. I can live without her as long as she’s safe.”
She brushed his hair from his brow. “Your ability to do the right thing distinguishes you from other men. It would have been easy to keep her here and risk fighting your foes.”
In this moment of weakness, he revealed his greatest fear. “Many men want to hurt me. What better way than through those I love? I had to let her go. I must let her go if she returns.”
“Is that why you’ve not told her you love her?”
“She needs a man who’ll battle a storm for her.” Not someone who had complicated his life with a constant fear of failure.
“Is that not you?”
He sighed. “She makes me forget everyone else exists. You know why that’s dangerous. I can’t protect you all and be everything she needs.”
A coy smile touched Delphine’s lips. She didn’t make the foolish mistake of advising him to forget his family. “There is away to strengthen your defences though you won’t like it one bit.”
He narrowed his gaze, knowing the road she referred to was one he refused to tread. “I’ll not appeal to the King to be named heir to an earldom. I’d rather cut out my tongue and serve it for supper.”
Delphine shrugged. “Aramis could run the club. You could sit in the House of Lords and terrify them into making sensible decisions. As a peer, you would be practically untouchable.”
“I’m a gaming hell owner, not a lofty lord.”
“Your grandfather was the Earl of Berridge, as was his father before him. You’re the true heir, not an imposter. Ignatius Chance soldhisbirthright, not yours. You could right the wrongs of the past.”
Everything she said made sense, but even if the King agreed, it would mean bearing a title he despised to the depth of his bones, adopting the family name he hated with a vengeance.
