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Dropping the towel, he scooped her up against his chest.

Her hands wound around his neck. “Now this is more like it.”

Walking with her to the bed and laying her on the soft sheets, he couldn’t stop looking at her… the flush along her silky skin, the freckles bridging her nose, her perfect lips. This day could have gone sideways—she could have been wounded, or worse. He stopped himself from going there.

She was fine. Safe. With him, where she belonged.

Her nails scraped along his shoulders. “Oliver—”

He shushed her with a kiss. “You want to go to the hospital to be with your brother?”

Roman and Mandy had called and offered to stay with Kyle during surgery so that Addy could go back to the hotel and wash her brother’s blood off, but he could tell she was distracted. Keeping her in the room, insisting she rest, would do the opposite.

Her sigh of relief tickled his skin. “Yes. I can’t chance him making a run for it again. I need those documents signed. We need to find a notary, too.”

“I found one the moment we got to Dublin. He’s been on standby.”

She blinked at him. “You did? Why?”

“It was the one thing I could take off your plate. If you want, he can meet us at the hospital tonight.”

“Yes, let’s do that. I don’t want to risk it. When Kyle’s out of surgery, let’s get him to sign, get it notarized, and get it where it needs to go. After that? I don’t want to even think about him.”

He knew that for the lie it was. The only reason she was blasé was because the paramedics had assured her that he’d be fine. Otherwise, she’d be wearing a hole in the hospital floor right now. No matter how angry she was with Kyle, he was still her brother, and nothing would change that.

With her lying naked beneath him, getting dressed to go to some hospital was the last thing Oliver wanted to do, but she’d never be able to focus otherwise.

He rose, pulling her up with him. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Oliver, you don’t have to come—”

Classic Addison. Thinking about everyone but herself. He caught her chin. “Stop it, Addy. You don’t have to be so independent all the time. Let someone else be there for you once in a while.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t need help? Maybe not. But I want to help, dammit.”

“My brother didn’t call you an ambulance when you were hurt. I can’t ask you to go with me now.”

“Yes, you can. I’m going. End of story.”

God, he loved her.

The feeling—so sudden, so strong, so right—rang through him. From the moment she fell into his arms like light after endless night, she’d made him look inside himself, shown him that his world hadn’t ended on that Dublin street. He could still have the life he wanted, but he didn’t want it without her. It wouldn’t be easy. Her brother would always be an obstacle. But they could work through it. It would be worth it.

They’d go to the hospital soon, but he couldn’t leave it like this—not after he’d knelt beside her on that bloodied floor, not after being so close to losing her.

No blood on her now. Just smooth skin and a rosy flush. He slid his arms around her and pressed his lips to her cheek.

“Oliver… maybe…”

He kissed away her hesitation as he guided her back down to the bed. “We can take five minutes. I need this. I need you. I thought I’d lost you.” Pulling back, he waited for her nod of assent.

Moving down her body, he let her imprint on his senses—the silk of her skin, the freckles scattered across her trembling belly. His. Finally his to keep.

When he sank into her, he watched her eyes go all hazy and soft. He’d almost let her walk away. Almost turned away from what they had. He’d never make that mistake again. She deserved the best version of him, and that was within his control to give. He would be the man she saw when she looked at him. For her. For himself. For them both.

He was tired of his own bitterness, tired of the energy it took to hate Kyle. Three years of it. Enough.