Chapter Six, Part III

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Rafe: Warring Hearts

Rafe swallowed, gulping down a large breath of air. He had not realized he'd been holding his breath. It was released easily as he tried to convey indifference at her thin frame lined with a draping evening gown of deep, royal violet. It heightened her femininity, drawing the eye to every slight curve she had. A gossamer shawl was wrapped about her elbows, revealing freckled shoulders. Her hair looked black in the dim light, twisted and wrapped about her heart-shaped face. High cheekbones and arched eyebrows fit together like some pristine mosaic of a goddess. Still, to this day, he had found no woman to rival her beauty. No one even came close. He bowed his head to keep the flushed scarlet from his cheeks. He hated acting this way before her, like some unhinged animal unable to control his feelings. Desire swelled within his gut. He longed to reach out and stroke her arms, pull her closer to him as he had done so long ago.

A mistake, his mind corrected. A feral, vicious thing, never to be repeated. He had promised long ago to be done with Mira Craft, but the long months spent away from her only seemed to make him want her more. He would never have had anything more to do with Mira had it not been for Saydee.

"Poppa?" her little voice chirped, reaching out chubby hands to him. He tore his gaze from Mira and knelt down, opening his arms up to the little girl. She hesitated, and his heart beat quickly in his chest. What if she doesn't remember me? It was a plausible, fearful thought that worried away at him constantly. He saw her three, four times out of the year. Most of her days were spent with her mother and someone else, another man who had stepped in to fulfill the role of father. The Commander had never had any use for a little girl.

"Poppa," Saydee said again, nodding to herself and galloping into his chest like a wild ox. He nearly fell back, rocking on his heels. When he did so, he nudged something solid behind him.

"Sorry sir," Rufus mumbled, and Rafe closed his eyes, enveloping his daughter in his arms.

Damn Rufus and his prying eyes. He did not like revealing this side of himself to his men. "Go downstairs," he barked gruffly between Saydee's hair. He heard Rufus's heavy boots as they hurried to oblige. On one step, he heard the man almost trip in his haste. His footsteps died away faintly downstairs.

"Let me look at you." Rafe gently pushed her back, holding onto her shoulders at arm's length. She grinned wickedly at him, showing a mouth of checkered white and black where her teeth were missing. She had a dimple only on the right side of her chin. Her button nose was freckled. Mira had written to him that they could hardly keep her inside when the sun was out. Black lashes winked, fluttering over her dark brown eyes. Serious eyes. My eyes thought Rafe. The brilliant green of Mira's did not, it seemed, extend to her child. Saydee's other features were swirled, a complete mixture of Rafe and Saydee's looks. He could never tell who she resembled more. One time it was him; the next Mira. She had the mischievous gleam of her mother's eyes and mouth, yet a graveness clung to her, especially when she concentrated.

"I'm bigger," Saydee clarified, clapping her chubby hands together. He saw that she had begun to slim down. She was not as round as she had been the last time he had laid eyes on her: some six months ago when he had last been near her home at Crestfall. "I ride my ponies all the time," she added proudly, jutting her small chin toward him. Rafe raised his brows and forced a smile through the grim sadness that had crept into his mind.

"Momma doesn't like it," she told him, trying to whisper.

"What?" Mira stepped closer. The scent of lilies wafted down to Rafe's nose. He clenched his jaw. "What did she say?" She chuckled a little bit, keeping up the charade of normalcy.

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