Page 39 of The Rake I Wished For
Her chest felt like it might explode with happiness. How had she ever thought love was something to fear? How had she believed that she’d be safer without it?
He moved a step closer, but he still didn’t reach for her. “I know that must frighten you. I understand now why you’ve run from love and why you don’t want it. Your mother’s story—”
“Was tragic,” Jocelyn cut in, finally breaking her silence. “But it’s notmystory.”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s your mother’s story, not yours. I’m glad you realize that, like Liam and Rose, you can have it all. The love, the family, and the future that you deserve, it can all be yours.” His gaze softened, and she drew in a shaky breath, waiting for him to reach for her. To speak of their future.
“I suppose you see now why I cannot stand by and watch you marry another.” Harlow turned away.
Jocelyn gaped at him, her furiously pounding heart making a dash for her throat, because surely he didn’t mean… “You believe I still intend to marry another.”
Harlow wouldn’t look at her.
“I want you to.” The clench of his jaw and fists belied his words, but they still pierced her heart and made her legs feel weak.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered.
When his gaze returned to meet hers, she felt the pain she saw there. It made her own eyes sting with unshed tears. “Jocelyn, I know you. I know what you want—”
“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. How could he when she’d only just realized it herself? She’d spent her whole life thinking she wanted one thing, but she’d been so wrong. She’d thought she could avoid her mother’s pain by running from love, but if watching her brother fall in love had taught her anything, it was that they didn’t have to make their parents’ mistakes.
They didn’t have to choose the path forward based on fear, or the past, or even duty and obligation. They could pave their own way. And they could do it by choosing love, not running from it.
But Harlow continued talking before she could even begin to explain, and his sudden change in topic made her head spin.
“This is my land,” he said, turning once more to gesture with a sweeping motion.
Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. It seemed important to him that they discuss land, of all things, so she forced her gaze away to take in the bleak landscape. “All right,” she said slowly.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been working with my hands every chance I get. These last two years when everyone assumes I’m off on a bender, when I disappear for days on end, that’s what I’ve been doing, Jocelyn.”
She blinked in surprise. He sounded so defensive. Like she was going to judge.
“So you see, Jo, I’m not just a penniless gent not fit to ask for a dance, let alone a kiss.” His lips curved in a rueful smirk. “I’m also a common worker.”
“A common…” She took a step forward. “Harlow there is nothing common about you.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “I’ve been trying to get more investors so I can build up this land…”
She blinked again as she recalled what he’d said at the inn, about the inconvenience to him. “You were staying in London to meet with investors.”
His sidelong glance confirmed it.
“And I ruined your chance.”
“Not ruined,” he said quickly. “As you heard, one of the investors was in the area and came to see it with his own eyes.”
Jocelyn’s mind was racing. It was so much easier to focus on things like investors and logistics rather than the churning emotions that threatened to drown her. Thoughts she could sift through, plans and strategy were a lifeline in stormy waters…
Harlow needed money.
And he loved her.
That second part was the only matter of real consequence, but for him, it seemed, his investments and land opportunities were a part of all this.
“How much money do you need?” she asked.
His brows arched in a surprise and he let out a huff of amusement. “I realize you and I have a rather uncommon sort of friendship, Jo, but even I know I shouldn’t discuss financial matters with you.”
