Philippe frowned at Rafe, but there was none of the earlier anger cutting lines in his face. “I believe you.”
“I have no desire to hurt you, but if you don’t at least consider this potential threat, then you risk more of your people being killed.”
Releasing Rafe completely, Philippe walked over to the sofa and dropped onto the worn cushions. He looked utterly drained. “I have. In my darker moments, the thought has occurred to me.” He shook his head before looking back up at Rafe. “But how do you look at your own family, the people you trust so completely, and try to figure out who might have a reason to start killing people they should see as a brother or sister?”
“I don’t know, but I think you need to speak with my brothers. Particularly Winter and Marcus.” Rafe walked over and kneeled in front of Philippe so he could meet his gaze. “As much as I hate to admit this, I am at the end of my wisdom. I’ve tapped every resource I have, listened to every rumor, and I have nothing.” Rafe cocked his head to the side and smiled. “I’ll be right there if you wish. I swear I’ll deny it later if you repeat it, but Winter and Marcus are far more in tune with the darker side of our world. If anyone can find your killer, it will be them.”
Philippe graced him with half a smile. “I’ll think about it. I’m overdue for a meeting with Marcus anyway.”
Rafe continued to kneel on the floor, one hand on Philippe’s knee, traced little designs in the soft jeans with the tip of his index finger. There was another thought playing around in his brain that could solve a number of problems for Philippe, but he feared the explosion would be even worse than the one he’d just experienced over accusing someone within the Arsenault clan.
But in for a penny…
“I did have another thought,” Rafe said slowly, as he carefully chose each word before it left his tongue. “One you’re likely to be as angry about as my last one.”
“About whom my killer might be?”
“No, a possible solution to help add a new layer of protection,” Rafe chanced a glance up at Philippe. “And solve our personal dilemma.”
Both of Philippe’s eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Really? And you say I’m not going to like it?”
“Very likely hate it.” Rafe paused and rolled his eyes. “Very likely to throw me out over just thinking it.”
“An offense worth ejecting you from the house? Now I’m intrigued. This is the kind of wicked I was expecting when I first thought of meeting with you.” Philippe reached out and pushed his fingers through Rafe’s hair, causing his eyes to fall shut under the caress. “Tell me.”
He wanted to fucking moan under Philippe’s touch. Nothing had ever been so heavenly. “I don’t think I will. I’m rather enjoying this, and you’ll stop if I tell you.”
“Rafe.”
“Nope, quite serious. I think I’ve angered you enough tonight.”
“Tell me.”
“Promise you won’t get angry.”
“You know I can’t do that.” Amusement tinted his words.
Rafe forced his eyes to open so he could look at Philippe. “Promise that you’ll try to not be angry. You know it’s not my intent to insult you.”
Philippe’s chuckle sounded weary, but it was still light and airy as it danced around the room. “You mean how I so wonderfully remembered that you didn’t intend to hurt me by saying the killer is within my own clan?”
“Yes, mon ange, but with possibly a little less shouting and stomping on my heart,” Rafe teased, glad Philippe had resumed playing with his hair. He’d never thought he would kneel at someone’s feet, but he found that the position was quite nice when it came to Philippe.
Correction: he never thought he’d do it without sucking a man’s cock, but if he was lucky, he and Philippe could get around to that later.
Philippe laughed again. “Yes, less shouting and no stomping on your heart.”
Rafe eyed him for a moment in wary disbelief. He couldn’t believe he was even considering saying the words out loud. He’d clearly lost his mind.
Or he’d truly fallen in love with Philippe Arsenault.
“Please keep in mind that I’ve spoken to no one about this. It’s a thought that has been percolating in my brain since we spoke last.” He was stalling. He knew he was stalling. The smile Philippe was using to hold back his laugh made it clear that he also knew Rafe was stalling, but his lover said nothing.
“What if…the Arsenault clan joined the Varik clan?” Rafe suggested. As soon as the last word left his mouth his entire body tensed up, preparing for the explosion that was about to occur.
“I don’t understand.” The lines returned to Philippe’s smooth brow in confusion, but so far his voice sounded calm, if a little strained.