He gave her another grimly determined look. ‘Nor am I.’
As he closed the door on his exit, Poppy wondered if he was talking about her, the dower house, or both.
* * *
It was terrible seeing his younger brother in intensive care hooked up to monitoring machines and IV drips. Rafe’s stomach was clenched so tightly he could barely breathe. Remy was standing by Raoul’s bedside with a look of such bewilderment on his face it reminded Rafe of the day they had been told their parents had been killed. The weight of responsibility back then was like a leaden yoke on his ten-year-old shoulders. He had realised at that moment he had to take control—that at seven and almost nine his brothers were far too young to understand what had happened and how it would impact on them. He’d had to take charge, to step up to the plate and make them feel someone was looking out for them.
He felt the same now.
‘He’s not going to die.’ Rafe said it without really believing it. It was his role to give assurance, to keep control. To support his brothers and keep the family together no matter what tragedy was thrown at them.
Remy swallowed convulsively. ‘What if he can’t walk again?’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Rafe said. He had already thought about it—how it would impact on Raoul, who was the most physically active of them all. His brother would rather be dead than spend his life trapped in a wheelchair; Rafe was sure of it. His job now as his older brother would be to keep him focused on getting as well as he could, to give him hope that he would one day be able to walk again. Medical breakthroughs were happening all the time, admittedly not as quickly as everyone hoped, but it would be crazy to give up hope. He had to keep Raoul positive about a possible recovery.
He looked at his brother lying so pale and broken. He looked at those long, strong legs lying useless in the hospital bed. How would Raoul cope with never feeling the floor beneath his feet, the sand between his toes...the sensuous feel of a lover’s legs entwined with his?
It was painfully, torturously ironic that only days ago Raoul had expressed to Rafe over that beer they had shared his desire to settle down. How likely was that going to be now? What if he had no function at all? The doctors had been very cautious in what they had said so far. Perhaps they didn’t know until more scans and tests were done. Spinal injuries could be mild or serious and just about everything in between.
‘We’ll have to tell Nonno,’ Remy said, pulling Rafe out of his painful reverie.
‘Yes.’ Rafe stood up and took out his phone. ‘He won’t be much help, though. He’ll just blame Raoul for being such an adrenalin-junkie. You were probably too young to remember what he said when Mama and Papa were killed. But I have never forgotten and I’ve never forgiven him.’
‘I remember...’ Remy’s expression was shadowed, haunted. He swallowed again, thickly, as if something hard and misshapen was stuck in his throat. ‘Did you know Raoul was thinking about getting engaged to Clarissa Moncrief? I think he was going to propose to her while they were on this trip to the lake.’
Rafe felt his stomach clench again. He had caught a glimpse of Clarissa in the waiting room earlier. She had darted out to the ladies’ room rather than speak to him. That didn’t bode well in his opinion. Would she stick around for Raoul if things didn’t go according to plan?
He couldn’t help thinking of Poppy, how she had offered to come with him to support him. He had pushed her away because that was what he always did when he had to focus.
He missed her.
It was hard to admit it, but he did. He missed her in a hundred different ways—her smile her tinkling-bell laugh; the scent of her, a mixture of sugar and spice and all things nice.
But he would damn well have to get used to missing her. He couldn’t take her with him back to Italy once this was sorted out. It had been crazy to think of a future with her, or a future with anyone right now. He had even more responsibilities on his shoulders now. How could he possibly think of settling down when Raoul was in such a state? It would be selfish and crass of him to rub his brother’s nose in it by announcing his own engagement.
But you love her, you idiot.
Hang on a minute. His sensible control-centre cut in. What fool would fall in love so quickly? It was lust, that was what it was.
He should never have got into an affair with her in the first place. He’d been blindsided by lust. It had affected his judgement. It was uncharacteristic of him to act so impulsively and now he had to deal with the consequences. She would find someone else, someone who was more in her world of hearth and home and cute, fluffy dogs.
But the least he could do was go and see her about the dower house once he got Raoul stabilised.
That was the plan, the goal.
Now he had to focus.
* * *
‘I know you told me never to mention his name around here again,’ Chloe said a couple of weeks later. ‘But have you heard how Rafe’s brother doing? There’s been nothing in the press since the first report of the accident. It’s like there’s been a block out on it or something.’
Poppy let out a painful sigh. ‘I called his secretary a couple of times. There’s still some uncertainty about his mobility. He has some feeling in his legs, so at least that’s a positive. It could be much worse.’
‘God, life really sucks sometimes,’ Chloe said. ‘Is Rafe coming back to the manor? Did his secretary say anything about his plans?’
‘She said he would be back in a couple of weeks to pick up his things.’
‘Don’t give up on him yet,’ Chloe said. ‘Sometimes tragic occurrences make people take stock of their lives. He might want you with him by his side as he helps his brother get through this.’