Grace wasn’t certain how much time had passed but a dream woke her. In it, she was being held by Crusher. Ben tried to save her, but he moved further and further away. She struggled and pulled, trying to reach him, but the more she tried, the smaller he became until he disappeared from view.
She woke in a panic, the sun gone and the room cast in darkening shadows. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she sat up. She had to find a way to sleep in his arms tonight. She didn’t wish to be alone.
Rising from the bed, she pulled the cord to call for a servant to help her dress. The dream was about her fear from the kidnapping but it was more than that. She was desperately afraid she’d lose Ben after she’d only just found him. Diana was right. It was time to tell him how she felt.
An hour and half later, she stood at the top of the stairs in one of her favorite gowns made of blue silk. It swept off her shoulders and cinched just below her bosom, highlighting the ample curve of her bustline. She pulled her hair back into a soft coif at her nape, allowing a few artful pieces to dance about her neck and shoulders.
She pressed her hands to her midriff, hoping that she looked pretty enough for what she was about to do.
Glancing down the stairs, she saw Ben standing with Exile in the foyer just as Daring and Effing came through the doors.
“It’s done,” Daring’s voice boomed up the stairs. “We’ve brought her back to London and made arrangements for a proper funeral.”
Ben looked to his friend and didn’t see her at the top of the steps, which worked fine for her. It gave her a moment to drink in the details of his face, the lines of his body, her own responding to the very sight of him. She smoothed her skirts as she started down the stairs.
“Good,” Ben answered, still not see
ing her. “I’m glad to know that Harry will be protected from this scandal. If we’ve done one thing right, it’s made that boy safe.”
Effing nodded. “When we sell the club, we’ll use the proceeds to fund his earldom. We’re all financially stable now, we don’t need the money.”
“Agreed,” Exile grunted. “Sin can oversee the transfer. In the meantime, we’ll have to decide upon a way to discreetly vet possible buyers.”
Grace’s brow furrowed. Did Ben really wish to sell the club? But she didn’t need to ask as Effing did it for her. “Bad, how do you feel about letting the club go? You spent more time there than any of us.”
She stopped, nearly at the bottom of the steps as her heart raced in her chest. She wasn’t certain she wanted to hear his answer, in fact her stomach pitched with nerves but she couldn’t make her voice work to announce her presence either.
“I don’t have much choice in the matter,” he rumbled, his eyes casting to the floor.
What did that mean? Nausea made her head spin and she covered her mouth with her hand. If there was one thing she didn’t want to do, it was force him into a match that Ben didn’t want. “I beg to differ,” she said, announcing her presence. “You have all the choice in the world.”
* * *
Dread made Bad’s stomach drop. He hadn’t meant the words the way they sounded. He wanted nothing more than to marry her. The club, however, was a part of his past. First, all his partners had married. He didn’t want to run the place without them. Second, somewhere over the past few months he’d outgrown the place.
He no longer wished to spend his time with drunk and rowdy men. It occurred to him that in some ways, he’d recreated his past in his present. Sure, he had more money, but still, he dealt with the basest facets of humanity.
He touched the ring rattling in his pocket. He’d bought it this morning because…well mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. But also Bad wanted to be prepared. If Grace were ruined, their marriage would be swift to ensure she was protected as much as possible.
He drank in the sight of Grace standing before him in that dress…God, she made a man ache for more. She looked so lovely—soft, tempting, stunning—standing there. And she appeared…hurt. “Grace.” He reached out to her. “I only meant that with all my partners retiring—”
She held up her hand, her shoulders squaring as she descended the last few steps. The men parted for her and she stepped in front of him. “It’s all right. You don’t have to placate me. I need to tell you something.”
“What?” His chest tightened as he looked down at her determined face.
That sweet pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I…”
She drew in a deep breath, more pink spreading across her cheeks. She was perfection.
“I love you,” she said.
His mouth dropped open and his breath stuck in his throat. “What?”
She pressed her hands to her stomach. “I love you and I want what’s best for you and—”
“Grace.” He reached for her waist. “You don’t have to say that.” She wanted his protection and he knew that even if she didn’t.
The men around him shifted.