She looks up at me with a sleepy smile on her lips. “What are you thinking about?”
I press a kiss to her hair, breathing her in. “That I’m never letting you go,” I say honestly.
She doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t question it. She just snuggles closer. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I don’t want you to.”
And as we lie there, watching the stars drift slowly across the glass, something inside me settles.
This isn’t just love.
This is it.
And I will do whatever it takes to keep her. But that does mean I have to accept the fact that she will need to know the truth about me and how long I’ve been lurking in the background of her life. And then, I have to fucking hope she still wants me. I can’t do it. I can’t break this spell, not yet.
“Do you have time tomorrow before your meeting with Marco for another date?” I ask her.
She presses a kiss on my chest. “Absolutely.”
I want to show her that fun side of me. The one she alone seems to bring out.
“Have you ever been on a jet ski?”
She laughs. “God, no. I’m scared I’ll kill someone. Or fall off and drown.”
“What about if I drive, you just hold on? I’ll keep you safe, you know I will.”
She sighs, snuggling against me. “That sounds pretty fun. Deal.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lily
I haven’t slept this soundly in years. Being tucked up against a beast of a man does that, it seems. Having his arms around me makes my brain finally switch off. The constant fear. The endless what-ifs. The quiet terror that someone could break in and hurt me while I sleep.
With him beside me, none of that exists. There’s just warmth. I feel the exact second he slips out of bed. The mattress shifts, the air cools, and then the soft press of his lips against my back. I smile and drift right back under.
When I wake again, I drag the covers off and pull on one of my oversized T-shirts. As I open the bedroom door, I hear the edge in his voice.
“What unit was it?” he hisses down the phone.
I pause.
Then his eyes meet mine.
The anger drains from his face instantly, replaced by something softer. Something that belongs only to me. He smiles.
“And how many died?” he asks, not breaking eye contact with me.
My heart sinks.
This is the reality of his life. The one my father didn’t want for me. The more I see it up close, the more it makes sense why he let me go with my mother all those years ago. And selfishly, I want Drago to leave this life.
He nods to whoever he’s speaking to and crooks his finger, silently telling me to come to him.
And I do. Because resisting him feels impossible.
I stop in front of him, and his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. I rest there, letting myself be held, while his fingers slip under my shirt and grip my ass like he needs the grounding.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, Declan,” he says firmly.
