Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“What? What walls?”
This time, it was Philippe’s turn to look away from Rafe. His cheeks took on a slightly red hue in a surprising blush. “I think I misspoke. Making stupid assumptions,” Philippe said a low, hurried voice.
“No, mon ange,” Rafe started, trying to soften his tone when he saw how uncomfortable Philippe suddenly appeared to be. “I’m truly lost. What assumptions are you talking about? What walls?”
Philippe looked up at Rafe for a moment, as if trying to decide whether Rafe was as lost as he claimed to be. The mention of walls between them had sent a shaft of panic through Rafe, leaving him wanting to pull Philippe tight against him.
“I assumed what was happening between us was…more than sex. I thought you felt…something…”
Rafe leaned over and captured Philippe’s lips in a brutal, draining kiss that had Philippe happily sighing into his mouth and stopping his broken words. Yes, this was more than sex and a bit of fun. Rafe had known it was more almost from the first moment Philippe touched him. He was drawn to the man as if the mythical red thread tied them together across distance and time.
“This was never just sex. I feel so much, need you so much,” Rafe said when he could finally pull his mouth from Philippe’s.
But his words didn’t bring the look of joy he’d expected. Rather, Philippe looked sad at Rafe’s proclamation. He couldn’t be alone in this. Philippe cared for him as well. He knew it.
“And I care for you as well. Need you. But our clans stand between us. They’ll always separate us.”
Rafe jerked away from Philippe. He wanted to climb out of the bed and pace, to run from those words. That couldn’t be true.
“How? The Variks and Arsenaults are forming an alliance.”
“True. But you will always be a Varik first.”
“Yes, of course.” The words were out of Rafe’s mouth before he could even think about them. Philippe might look a little sad, but not particularly surprised. The Variks were his family. Blood. Philippe couldn’t possibly expect him to choose anyone over his blood.
“And as long as the interests of the Variks and Arsenaults are aligned, we have no problems.”
Rafe’s heart skipped. The air in the room grew heavy and it was difficult to draw in a breath. He finally saw where Philippe’s thoughts had traveled, and he couldn’t sit still any longer. Throwing back the covers, Rafe placed his feet on the floor. He walked over to the dresser and grabbed a pair of sleep pants.
“If we should ever differ on an issue, you would automatically side with your brothers,” Philippe continued.
“Would you truly expect me to do otherwise? How could you even respect me if I turned on my family?” Rafe snapped as he jerked on his pants, one leg at a time.
“Rafe, I’m not criticizing you. Of course, you would choose your brothers first. You would choose your clan first,” Philippe continued softly. “I’m sure you would expect the same from me. You wouldn’t care for me if you thought I wouldn’t do everything to protect my clan.”
Rafe paced away from Philippe, shoving his hand through his hair. Panic crawled across his skin, and he was tempted to cross to the living room where his violin case rested on its usual shelf. Holding it clutched in his fingers, he was sure the world would settle into an order he could make sense out of, that he’d be able to find a solution.
But there was a nagging voice in his head that kept repeating there was no solution.
“Where does that leave us?” Rafe demanded, hating the way the panic was starting to sharpen his voice.
“I would ask you to join the Arsenault clan, but I don’t think my heart could take your rejection right now.”
Rafe’s head jerked around so that he was looking at Philippe still seated on the bed. He hadn’t moved while Rafe paced like a caged animal. But his fingers were tightly clutching the sheet pulled up to his waist.
“Philippe…”
“Don’t, mon amour. It’s as you said, how could I respect you if you turned away from your family?”
“Then what do we do?”
Philippe shrugged, but it was a minute movement of his slim shoulders. He smiled at Rafe, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Suddenly the strong, powerful creature he was falling for looked very small and worried. The vampire who had pulled together and protected his clan was replaced by a twentysomething young man faced with losing his lover. “We continue as we have been. Enjoy the stolen moments we can find.”
And pray nothing comes between our two clans that would rip us apart.
Those were the words Philippe was refusing to say, but Rafe could feel their unspoken weight hanging between them.
But stolen moments and prayers weren’t enough for Rafe. Not when he’d found someone who completed him in a way he’d never thought possible. The emptiness was filled by Philippe and his beautiful golden light. If there were truly no other way, he would learn to be content with stolen moments, but only after he’d searched for a solution that would keep them together. That would give them a chance at something closer to what Marcus had achieved with Ethan.