The tension that’s been eating at me is gone in an instant, and I slide my arms around him, letting myself feel the warmth of his body, so that I’m certain he’s safe.
The kiss ends when Aspen raises his voice outside, ordering someone, likely the goon he’s subdued, to lie on the ground. And there I was thinking he’s good for nothing… perhaps I should pay more attention to his progress?
“I knew you didn’t run,” I whisper, kissing Dalton’s bloodied nose. His blood’s tart, almost refreshing, and I smile at him, relieved to have him back at my side.
His eyes are so warm and soulful when they meet mine. “Why would I have run? This is the happiest day of my life, despitethisfuckery.” He can’t hug me but still leans into me like a puppy in need of affection. I love that about him.
Nodding, I kiss him again, then gently help him up, so we can both leave the tight confines of the van.
Aspen grins at us from his impromptu seat on a cuffed goon’s back. “Dad called. Told him we have this under control,” he tells me as I roll Kemper over with a kick, then find a small bundle of keys in his pocket.
“Good. I don’t want any more gossip,” I mumble, attempting to insert the small key into the hole in the cuffs. The first time, I fail. The second is so pathetic I can no longer deny to myself that my hands are shaking.
I could have lost him. Just like that. How am I supposed to live with this knowledge and not lock him in a golden cage?
But I finally manage to free Dalton, and as soon as his arms are around me, I’m all right again. It’s okay. He’s here with me. Being part of the Van der Horn family comes with risks, and I’ve made peace with that.
“Is he dead?” Dalton asks, not letting me go.
I would have been self-conscious about such a display of affection in the past, especially in front of the three goons, but why should I care? I’m getting married to this amazing man, and I’m proud to show him off.
“Napping,” I tell him somberly and nod when Dalton approaches one of the fallen men with the cuffs that kept him from embracing me moments ago. “I think he should be a family guest until next Christmas.”
Going by Aspen’s grin and the bloodthirsty glow in his eyes, my cousin knows what I mean.
One of the hired guns speaks up as Dalton cuffs him. “Listen man, we’ve got no connection with Kemper, or grudge against you. He just paid us. Please, let us make it up to you somehow. We didn’t even know who we were dealing with.”
Just like the last assassins Kemper hired. Pathetic. We’ll see how he fights his own battles at next year’s hunt.
I spare a glance at the guy who seems to be their leader. “Don’t cause trouble and you’ll live.” ‘For now’is implied.
Aspen’s using their begging as a chance for teasing, but as Dalton places his arms around me again, my gaze settles on the man who messed up my wedding plans, and it strikes me that I wasn’t that far off from becoming like him. I too planned to stay in the closet and keep Dalton as my secret, trapped underground, to use as I saw fit.
What a waste that would have been. Dalton is so much more when he’s free at my side.
A deep shudder passes through me, and I seek my man’s hand, unsettled about the warning in my own thoughts. “Dalton… do you think I’m a bad person?”
Dalton frowns and cups my face before a kiss. “Would I be marrying a bad person?”
I melt into him so easily it’s borderline embarrassing, but I have a craving for approval only he can satisfy. “I want to be good to you.”
“You will be. I know it.” Dalton’s all the warmth I need. He kisses my temple like I’m some fragile thing made of ice, not a ruthless cog in the Van der Horn machine.
I don’t get to sizzle in his affection for as long as I want to, because several of our security people pour into the yard. “What’s the situation, Mr. Van der Horn?” one of them asks.
Aspen gets up with a groan. “I said I had it under control!”
Another bodyguard clears his throat. “Apologies, but we have instructions from your father.”
Dalton whispers into my ear. “Let’s go get married.”
Just like that, the stress and fatigue I’ve been experiencing dissolves in the dense happiness of having him with me. For a moment, I consider making a beeline to the bathroom, so he can clean his face at least, but why bother, when he looks so sexy painted in blood?
“Let’s go get married.”
Epilogue
Dalton
