The Ice Around My Heart Page 4

  “Rathe, please look at me.” Mary’s voice was a faint whisper. She sounded like she was begging for his attention, and it wasn’t right. Hadn’t he promised himself he wouldn’t make Mary cry again?

  He forced himself to look at her, and the unshed tears glistening in her eyes made him feel violent. If someone could guarantee to Rathe that taking another life would give him the power to change his destiny with Mary, he would probably find someone to murder in a heartbeat. At that moment, he just wanted to unleash the rage inside him, wanted to smash the hell out of something because he was tired of wanting someone forbidden to him.

  “I’m sorry.” The words were torn out of him.

  Mary shook her head wildly. Somehow, she felt like his apology made everything worse, made her presence in his life something to regret. “D-don’t be.”

  A harsh laugh escaped him. “You’re too nice for me.”

  “I’m n-not.”

  “Yes, you are.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you know how bloody foolish I was tonight?”

  He turned to her, and the look of self-disgust on his handsome face made Mary’s heart ache.

  “I went to my parents’ place, hoping they’d weave for me a goddamn fairy tale – anything to prove that the bloody contract isn’t only something an arsehole could do. But you saw what happened. He couldn’t explain why he had Mother sign those papers.”

  His jaw clenched. “He couldn’t say anything because the damn truth is, he really was an arsehole—”

  Unable to bear the torment etched on Rathe’s face, she took hold of his hand, saying urgently, “We c-can’t be sure—”

  “He didn’t say anything!” Rathe was close to shouting. “And do you know what that means? Do you? My entire childhood, people treated my mother like trash and she never made a fuss. I always thought it was because they were taking the high road, but it’s not. It was because it’s true. My father is an arsehole who seduced my mom when she was too young to know what’s right—” His voice fell.

  A second later, Rathe took hold of her by the shoulders, his grip so tight it made her cry out. “Just like you are now. Just like you’re too young to know—”

  “No.” She finally saw where this was heading, and she shook her head wildly. “NO.” She wrenched out of his hold so she could straddle him and cup his face. If she wasn’t feeling too anxious, she would have laughed at the surprise that flitted in Rathe’s eyes at her sudden actions. It really wasn’t like her to be this assertive, but what else could she do when he was about to tell her that what they had was wrong?

  “L-look at me,” she demanded. When he did, she asked fiercely, “Do I look stupid to you?”

  He frowned. “No. Of course not, but—”

  “I’m n-not yet done.” Her still-fierce tone silenced him, his intense gaze never leaving her face.

  Her fists curling against his shirt, Mary asked him haltingly, “If you d-don’t think I’m stupid, then you should trust me to know if I really love someone or not. If you don’t think I’m stupid, shouldn’t you just believe that I love you?”

  Tears choked her voice as she asked, “If you don’t think I’m stupid, shouldn’t y-you keep b-believing that I can make you love...me?”

  A wealth of insecurities lied in her question, and he remembered the last time he had made her feel this way.

  Mary was in her dorm, shaking and injured, her stepfather’s corpse on the floor. She was pale from shock and loss of blood, but more than that, she gazed at him like she was seeing the world without her rose-colored glasses for the very first time.

  “My piranha’s not a vegetarian...”

  The words sounded like a joke, but Rathe knew they were anything but, knew it was his little pearl’s way of coping with the fact that her stepfather had tried to rape her and her pet piranha had come to her rescue.

  After calling 911, Rathe approached her with care. She looked so lost it made him feel so bloody helpless.

  “Mary?” He didn’t dare say anything else, feeling like if he said the wrong thing, she would break down completely.

  Hearing her name on his lips seemed to make something in Mary snap, and her next words proved it.

  “And I’m not your mistress, am I?”

  Rathe’s heart broke at the words, and his heart broke another time at seeing the pain in her eyes. This was girl who had loved him so selflessly despite the fact that he had been a bastard to her so many bloody times.

  She had only loved him, and all he had been able to do was hurt her.

  In front of him, Mary’s eyes began to swim with tears.

  “I’m your whore, right?”

  He remembered how she looked that time when Mary called herself his whore. It was exactly how she looked now.

  His chest spasmed, and he hauled her down to him. “I’m sorry.”

  Mary started to cry even as their lips meshed with each other. This time, she welcomed the apology. Not because she wanted to hear it, but because this time it didn’t feel like he was also saying goodbye.

  His fingers sinking in her hair, Rathe rained kisses all over her face. “I believe you.”

  She cried harder at the words.

  Another painful spasm hit his chest at the sound of her sobs. “Mary...” Again, a sense of helplessness struck Rathe. Why, God, why? Why was it only with her did he feel so bloody powerless? It was as if he was destined to hurt her over and over.

  “Do you regret being with me now?” Rathe forced the words out. He had to ask it, even though it killed him to do so.

  And if she said yes—

  If she admitted to regretting being with him—

  Mary’s blurry gaze found Rathe’s at the question, and his drawn face made her feel weak for a whole different reason.

  This man was the Duke of Flanders. One of the famous Pussketeers. England’s #1 Heartthrob. Yet at that moment, she saw that he was just an ordinary man, too, one who had been through too much hurt that he had chosen to turn himself into ice.

  She wanted to tell him she would love him forever, wanted to tell him she would never leave him, but words failed her and in the end, she could only say his name.

  “Oh, Rathe.”

  Love rang so clearly in those two words it made Rathe’s heart race like he had just finished a damn marathon. Relief burst inside him at hearing those two words, and unable to help himself, he cupped her face, angling it down for another kiss.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his kiss. Passion flared up, like it always did, and Rathe suddenly felt all the layers of clothing between them painfully restrictive.

  “I can’t wait,” he said hoarsely against her lips. It was both a warning and an apology, but his little pearl didn’t seem to mind, not when she only kissed him and rocked her body against him in answer.

  His cock became rock hard in an instant, her warm welcome making his body shake in need. He ached badly, and he nearly ripped his pants open in his haste to release his erection.

  Above him, Mary had risen on her knees, pushing the skirt of her dress up to wriggle out of her panties.

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t last if he waited that long. “Sorry,” he muttered. A second later, and her panties were torn away from her body and thrown on the floor.

  Grasping her hips, he pulled her down unceremoniously on his cock.

  He groaned, the harsh sound mingling with her loud, keening cry of pleasure. His eyes glazed at the sight of Mary throwing her head back at the feel of his penetration. This, seeing her out of her mind with desire for him, was Mary at her most beautiful and it never failed to make him want to sink his cock balls deep inside her.

  His fingers digging deep in the tender plump cheeks of her ass, he began to fuck her, his thrusts powerful and strong, Rathe determined to make her come again and again.

  Mary’s world once again started to spin, the only way it could when Rathe was possessing her. His cock pounded into her so forcefully it was almost like he was
ripping into her. But, oh God, it was such a beautiful way of being torn apart she wanted more of it.

  “Harder,” she gasped.

  And the duke gave it to her, his long hungry cock devouring her pussy.

  Her eyes dilated, her fingers clutching hard on his shoulders as her body shook at every thrust. “Raaaaaaathe....” She began to gasp, her entire body tightening as her orgasm threatened to take over.

  Seeing her on the brink of orgasm pushed him to the edge of pleasure as well. Rathe swiftly dragged the neckline of her dress down. When her breasts popped out of its confine, he bent down and took one nipple in, sucking on it the same time he pushed his cock back inside her tight pussy.

  She came with a scream, his name the only thing she could think of saying. “Rathe. Rathe. Rathe.”

  He came almost right after, her sounds of pleasure making him flood her pussy with his seed.

  As they came together, Mary hugged him to her, and his arms wrapped aorund her body just as tightly.

  She whispered in his ear, “I love you.”

  His body jerked, her words drawing out one last powerful spurt of come from his cock.

  “One day, you’ll love me, too.”

  His eyes closed.

  If only he really did believe her.

  ****

  Alyssa had been lying quietly in her husband’s arms for some time when Warren finally ended the silence between them.

  “You don’t have to say it, you know.” His words were half-serious, half-exasperated.

  It made her laugh as she turned towards him. Even though the entire bedroom was sheathed in darkness, she didn’t need to see Warren’s face to know he was unsmiling. He was always too hard on himself, her husband. It was both a good and bad thing, but she wouldn’t have him any other way.

  “You and Rathe always clash. He’ll come around in a bit,” she said soothingly.

  Warren stared unseeingly at the ceiling. “Not this time.”

  “He will if you give Mary a chance,” she pointed out quietly.

  Her husband stiffened beside her.

  His silence confused her and lifting herself up, she reached past him to switch the bedside lamp on. Light shone, illuminating Warren’s face, and the stubborn expression made her frown. “I can’t believe you really are that narrow-minded. Surely it’s not because she’s American?”

  He snorted. “You know me better than that.”

  “Then why?” she demanded. “She’s a decent woman—”

  “She’s just a child—”

  An incredulous gasp spilled out of Alyssa’s lips. “So it’s her age? You of all people—”

  “Exactly,” he said tightly. “I of all people know what it means when you marry someone who’s too young.” He sat up so he could look at Alyssa in the eye. “I love you. More than everything in the world. You know that. But I would not wish my son to go through the same thing we did. If there’s anything I could do to prevent it, I would.” His tone became steely with resolution. “Even if he’s going to hate me for it.”

  For a moment, Alyssa gazed at her husband, remembering the first time she had seen him. Warren Wellesley had been the most handsome man in her eyes and he still was. Then, his gallant and sophisticated manners had swept her off his feet, and she remembered how she had desperately tried all sorts of thing just so he would lose his ducal cool and laugh.

  It was so unfair that everyone thought he had been the one to seduce her, Alyssa thought sadly. In reality, it had been the other way around, Alyssa chasing after him relentlessly until there had been nowhere for him to run, nothing for him to do but give his heart to her on a platter.

  “I know it’s selfish of me to say this,” she said softly, placing a hand on her husband’s heart. “But I don’t agree with you. I know that Rathe will likely suffer twice as much hardship as we did, but Warren...the kind of love we have, don’t you think it’s special?”

  “Of course I do—”

  “Then wouldn’t you think it’s going to be so wonderful if our son experienced something like it as well?”

  Warren didn’t answer.

  “You know I’m right,” she teased.

  Her husband exhaled. “Yes. I know. I’m just not happy...knowing I may have to apologize to my son.”

  She giggled.

  He scowled. “It’s not a laughing matter.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “God knows how much I love that boy. He’s my own flesh and blood, blast it. But there’s just something about the way he looks at me...” Warren exhaled again. “He makes me feel I’ve failed my fami—”

  Frowning at the words, Alyssa placed a finger on his lips. “Hush. You know how I hate hearing you say that. It makes me think you regret loving me—”

  Warren frowned back. Holding her hand, he placed a kiss on her finger before pulling it away, saying flatly, “You know that’s not bloody true.”

  “Then act like it, my love.” Her eyes darkened. “Because although I wish I were wrong about this, I have a feeling that everything will soon come crashing down on our son and he’ll need both of us to be strong for him.”

  His gaze narrowed. “You know something, don’t you?”

  Alyssa remained quiet. It wasn’t exactly something she knew. Rather, it was more of a hunch because she could only think of one suspect – one person whom she had never trusted – capable of telling their son about the pre-nup.

  Unfortunately, that person was someone both her husband and Rathe trusted.

  “Alyssa?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just a hunch,” she said evasively. For now, she wouldn’t say a thing, but that person was a fool if he thought she would take this lying down. Rathe was her precious son. She would do everything to protect Rathe and the woman who loved him.

  She only prayed she would be able to help her son in time, before his pride forced him to do anything foolish.

  Chapter Five

  “Cheers to Saffi!” The sound of glass tinkling against each other filled the room as everyone toasted to Saffi March-Aehrenthal’s pregnancy, an event anticipated not only by the celebrating couple but also by the millions of fans who idolized her husband, Staffan Aehrenthal, the world’s most famous rockstar and Sweden’s #1 Sex God.

  It was the last night of the two other couples in Europe, with both due to fly back to the States the next day. Mary had personally arranged for tonight’s dinner, a small thing to do considering the fact that Saffi was the reason she had been able to meet Rathe.

  For tonight’s celebration, she had reserved the entire penthouse floor of one of London’s tallest skyscrapers, gifting them with a magnificent view of the city.

  As she instructed the head of the waiting staff to serve the desserts, Mary heard more clicking sounds from Saffi’s phone, making her rockstar husband groan. “Not another fucking photo.”

  The words made Mary smile as she faced the others. Sometimes, it still felt so surreal to find herself friends with such amazing people. Even Saffi herself was famous in her own right, being the only daughter of Senator Samuel March and a descendant of the Beaufort family.

  “Sorry,” Mary heard Saffi apologizing with a sheepish grin. “I can’t help it. I just have to...” Click.

  Saffi’s head bowed as her fingers flew on the screen of her iPhone. “Done,” she exclaimed several moments later.

  Mary’s phone beeped, and she tried her best to stifle her laugh when she realized what it was. Clicking on the notification, she was taken to Saffi’s tweet. Her friend had shared the photo with her followers, and Mary read the caption out loud. “The Three Pussketeers’ last night in London. Say it with me: They. Are. So. Gorg.”

  This time, all three Pussketeers groaned, with Staffan, Rathe, and Constantijin Kastein, who was also known as Netherlands’ #1 Playboy and an infamously ruthless business tycoon, turning to Saffi with exasperation in their gazes.

  Saffi flashed them a peace sign, mumbling, “Umm...don’t get mad. Coz...I’m...umm...pregnant?” />
  The excuse worked, the groans abruptly coming to a stop.

  “Your wife is too smart,” Constantijin remarked to Staffan with a resigned shake of his head.

  Rathe nodded in agreement.

  Pulling Saffi gently onto his lap, Staffan warned her half-seriously, “Make that the last photo, though. Contrary to what you think, the world can get enough of us.”

  “No one can ever get enough of you,” his young wife countered loyally.

  Her heart twinged at the exchange between Staffan and Saffi. She was happy, really happy for the two of them. But at the same time, she couldn’t help comparing their relationship with hers and Rathe—

  It didn’t make her feel sad.

  But it did make her feel scared.

  No matter how much she wanted to deny the truth, the fear was there. A part of her was still terrified the day that Rathe falling in love her would never come.

  “Hey.”

  Startled, Mary turned her head to find Yanna, wife to Constantijin, standing next to her. An attractive brunette, Yanna was a confident woman in her mid-twenties, with a cheeky sense of humor that never failed to set everyone laughing.

  Mary asked, “Is there s-something I c-could do for you?”

  Yanna quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, no. I just thought we hadn’t much time to chat, the two of us.” Aware of how shy the younger girl was, Yanna chose her next words carefully. “So...how are you finding England so far?”

  “It’s...different, but it’s also nice. Much cooler than F-florida, which I like.”

  Yanna wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, it can get really humid back home. I totally don’t miss that.”

  Seeing that Mary was once again gazing at Saffi and Staffan, Yanna said lightly, “You know, next year, it could be our turn.” When Mary gazed at her questioningly, she added, “Becoming expectant I mean.”

  “Oh.” The younger girl’s smile dimmed. “I d-don’t think that’s possible for me.”

  “Why not?” Yanna asked bluntly.

  “Because...” Mary bit her lip. “We don’t h-have that kind of relationship.”