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214 pages, ebook
First published February 9, 2021
He pressed his hand to her heart, the palm warm as he seemed to savor what he found there.
"I am not me. I am we. Us. That feels complete. My heart only seems to beat when you are near. I stand before you. No. I kneel at your feet."
He hit his knees, pressing his forehead to her fingers as if paying tribute to a goddess.
"I am a man stripped of pride and wit. Of everything that gave me power. This is what I offer you. A new start. I am asking -I'm begging- not for your forgiveness. Not for your mercy. But for you. Mercy. For you. Will you be mine? Will you let me call myself yours?"
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➥ Raphael (H)...holy smokes. When I tell you I love this man...that I'd do anything he asked me...I mean it in earnest. I've found that many historical romance heros are grumpy dicks that the heroine entertainingly deals with and cracks their shells (ahem, The Duchess Deal), but not this book. Raphael is a charming motherfucker right from the beginning and god, I love him. He's a gentleman in the streets but a freak in the sheets. Just my type 😔. But he's also horribly romantic and adoring? I think my heart fell out of my chest multiple times just because of the things he says.
“If we see each other again, Mercy Goode…” he warned in a voice made of sex and honey. “Be ready for me to taste the rest of you.”
➥ Mercy (h) was a pretty good fmc! I've read better (Emma from The Duchess Deal is my weakness), but her personality fit particularly well with Raphael's. She's intelligent and has a specific interest in murder mysteries which I thought was really cute! Oh and when she bitch-slapped Raphael, that was so hot 😔 me next <3
“Oh, she’d let justice take its course… Because justice, as everyone knew, was a woman.”
The kiss did not douse the flames of fury within her, merely fed them, fanned them, sent the heat licking its way over her flesh until it landed deep in her womb. Her snarl of demand somehow escaped as a whimper of need. She was dimly aware of a sense of weightlessness and a rush of air before she found herself pinned on her back to a mattress.
She glared at him as if she could bore through his middle with the blue fire in her eyes, "You kissed me, you impolite blackguard! Without my permission, I might add.”
“Ah, for that I would ask your forgiveness, Miss Goode…” His mouth softened and curled up at the memory. “If you had not kissed me back.”
“All I want to be is worthy of her,” Raphael said.
All semblance of charm and leisure had been replaced by a body coiled with the tension of steel cables and grey eyes glinting with all the lethality of gunmetal. He was across the room in a blink, lunging like a viper. He struck. Struck again. Blood flew and bone crunched. Suddenly, Trout was no longer grasping her but crumpled in a moaning puddle at her feet.
When Jenkins reached for his cudgel, the interloper only had to whirl and point a long finger in his direction to cause the lawman anxious hesitation. "If you raise that weapon against me, mon ami, I swear in front of God - and this beautiful woman - that I will take it and deliver the most humiliating beating you've ever received."
...
He lifted his knuckles to brush against her still-smarting cheek, and she flinched away. Not because she feared him- But because she wasn't ready to find out what the sensation would do to her. When his very presence set her nerves alight with such volatile, visceral thrums of awareness, how could she bear the pressure of his skin?
He obviously misinterpreted her retreat as a muscle flexed in his jaw. "I will relieve him of the hand he struck you with, mademoiselle."
His gaze affixed on the spot where her fingers explored her own cheek. Every twitch of discomfort she made seemed to turn his eyes a darker shade of grey, as if a storm gathered within them. "I will break every bone below that man's elbow for the pain he caused you." Shards of gravel paved a voice that had only just been smooth as silk.
"Would you let me fuck you, Mercy Goode?"
"I was going to let you sleep." His voice rumbled into the air of her room with a foreign vibration, splashing against her nerves with all the threat of thunder in the great distance. A man had never entered this room, certainly not at night.
"I wasn't sleeping." She yawned against the back of her knuckles.
"Oh?" He drifted inside, shutting the window behind him. Locking them together. "Do you often snore whilst awake?"
"I don't snore," she protested.
A smile toyed with the corner of his mouth, though he didn't argue the point.
She’d never offered him her heart. But he’d taken it all the same.
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“I don’t want to leave this world if you’re a part of it. Because you’re a part of me, whether you love me back or not.”