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It was Rafe’s voice, sounding raith concern, and a ht just before she toppled sickeningly forward

‘I don’t want to see anyone,’ she whispered threadily—not actually unconscious, but dizzyingly close to it

‘Of course not’ Rafe was squatting in front of her, holding her slu her thick ainst his face He was tre beneath her resting brow

‘It’s Sheila…’ Her uncle Thomas had moved to peer out of the‘It’s your aunt, Shaan,’ he ly ‘She—’

At that an to shake—shake violently Rafe uttered a soft curse and shifted his big fraather her deeper into the protective cocoon of his ar room door flew open

‘Shaan!’ a high-pitched, near hysterical voice cried out ‘Oh, you poor baby!’

‘No,’ she whiainst Rafe’s shoulder ‘No…’ She didn’t want this, couldn’t cope with it Not her aunt’s grief, not her uncle’s—not even her own!

Rafeher upright with hi lifted into his arms, her ice-cold face pressed into his warm, tense throat

‘She’s fainted,’ he lied God alone knehy, but Shaan was grateful to him ‘Her room, Mrs Lester—shohere her room is’

‘Oh, Shaan!’ Aunt Sheila—her quiet, soft, super, gentle aunt Sheila who rarely let anything ripple the cal her life—went co down into one of the chairs to sob uncontrollably Uncle Tho beneath his breath and strode out of the roo for direction

The hall was packed with people Shaan could sense their horrified presence even while Rafe kept her face hidden in his throat Ignoring thery adrenaline puh to send hi a breath

She heard several horrified gasps, and Je and sharp with concern Rafe answered tightly, but she didn’t knohat he said She was hovering sorey cloud just above pained reality

‘Which rooh the cloud

But although she tried to concentrate on the question she couldn’t She was barely aware of where she was On anotherthe on to the next one, until he came to the one which could only be the bride’s roo paraphernalia all over the place Once inside, he sat her down on the end of the bed and then turned to slam the bedroom door shut

Then silence hit, the sa silence which had closed them all in downstairs, after Rafe had delivered his letter

Rafe just stood there, glaring at her downbent head for a few rasp the short tulle veil she still worse Careless of the a it in place, he ripped it from her head and threw it aside

‘Sorry,’ he , he spun away, thrusting clenched fists into his pockets

Her scalp began to tingle fro she was glad of the feeling because it told her that she was at least partly still alive And she even understood why he’d done it Shehere in all her bridal finery while her groom made off in the opposite direction

Then it really hit—self-revulsion surging up fro to her feet, the letter, still cruan athe front of her lacy bodice together

‘Help , body shaking, her expression until now uncannily still breaking into a war of tortured loathing