“I don’t see how,” she says. “You’re the one who came to save me.”
“True, but you and Ibothmanifested a future where we were together. So of course the universe wasn’t going to let some worm like Trey screw things up.” I touch the tip of her nose.
“But you bled so much.” The shadow of memory dims the light in her eyes.
“It just looked impressive. A trick they teach you in spy school.” I keep my tone light and carefree, to bring the glitter back into her gaze. And it really wasn’t that bad. I’d cut off a limb to protect her. “I can recover just as well at home as in some boring hospital. The surgery went well, and I’m healthy as a horse. On top of that, I can’t stay away for too long. My brothers would suspect something was up. Now, enough about me. How are you feeling?” I really wish I could go back in time. Not to spare Trey’s life and torture him, but to go back far enough that I could kill him the second I laid eyes on him.
“I’m fine. The bruises are still there, but the swelling’s gone and nothing hurts. Victor’s been managing the bakery during my absence since—according to TJ—my appearance would scare away all the customers. And he’s been doing a great job, much better than I expected. I also had him hire someone to help out.”
“That’s good,” I say, pleased to note the life she’s worked so hard to build hasn’t been messed up by Trey and Otto.
“By the way, there’s something I want to tell you. Before Trey got violent, he said I wasn’t Otto’s daughter.”
“What?” If she weren’t Otto’s real daughter, it would’ve been in the files I received before the mission. But I never saw anything about it in any of the documents, and nobody mentioned it in briefing. “If he’s not your father, who is?”
“Some British diplomat. Trey said Otto killed him and his wife and took me from them.”
I shrug. “Could’ve lied.”
“I thought that too, but TJ also said Otto wasn’t my biological father.”
A beat. “Do you want me to find out who your real father is?” It would take some work, but I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out for her.
“No. Part of me is curious, but another part wonders what purpose it would serve. My life is here. My friends. My bakery. My family—blood relatives or not.” She gives me a smile. “And you.”
Hope and love bubble in my chest. Maybe this is going to work out after all.
“I was upset before, but when I thought about it, you did what you thought was right based on what you knew. You had to find the dossiers before somebody like Otto or Trey sold them and put you and others like you in danger. And I don’t want to let what Otto did stop us from having a wonderful life together, especially when he wasn’t even my real father.”
I press my forehead against hers, closing my eyes in a brief prayer of thanks to whatever entity out there is watching over me—and her. The anxiety and despair I felt over the fact that she might never fully forgive me for killing her father ebb. The air suddenly seems lighter and sweeter.
She thrusts the Bobbi’s Sweet Things bag at me. “Here. For you.”
I take the bag and open it. Fresh croissants are nestled inside. I jerk my gaze up at her.
“I swore I’d never let you have my croissants again because they reminded me of the last time you made me a promise and broke it. You loved my croissants then, too, saying you’d sell your soul for them. But when you didn’t come, I thought keeping your promise to me wasn’t that important to you.”
Regret and sorrow throb dully in my heart. I should’ve gone, no matter what. I should’ve put Bobbi above my own misgivings, uncertainties and fears.
“Even after I told you I’d give us three months, I didn’t really give us a clean slate. Part of me was just waiting for you to disappear on me again. But now… Well, now I feel like I can trust a guy who caught a bullet for me to keep my heart safe too.” The smile she gives me is bright and precious. My mouth dries as hope and love dance in my heart.
“You slay me,” I rasp, then laugh as my vision blurs a little. “You have to marry me because you’ve ruined me for other women. I’ll die alone, lost and miserable without you. You’re the light that I didn’t know I was willing to die to protect.”
Bobbi stares at me, her mouth softly parted and her eyes wide and teary.
“Wait wait wait, don’t answer,” I say as I realize what I’ve done. “I’m going to propose properly.”
She covers the bottom half of her face with her hands. “How are you going to propose better than this?”
“A white beach with an aquamarine lagoon attached. A thousand white calla lilies, and a thousand—actually, make ittwothousand—candles, with chilled champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries and the nama-cream cake you love so much. And I’ll drop to one knee.” I give her the vision I’ve held in my head since I saw the ring I ordered.
“That sounds really beautiful, but I love the proposal you just did, too.”
“Come on. I didn’t even give you a ring.”How could I have botched this?
She smiles, looping her arms around me. “Fine. You can propose again and impress me. But no matter how or where you do it, my answer is always going to be yes.”
Chapter Forty-Two
