“We both will,” I say, squeezing his hand.
“What exactly happened? Gabby was in no condition to talk before they took her away.”
I tell him the story, including the part about realizing he hadn’t sent the text.
He cringes. “That does it. One phone, both numbers. By the end of the day.”
I shake my head. “Tomorrow’s soon enough. You won’t need to text me today. You’re not leaving my side.”
“No,” he says. “I’m definitely not.”
I realize that everyone who had been in the room has left, and it’s just me and Ryan in the bedroom. And the moment I realize we’re alone, the dam breaks. A huge sob forces its way up my throat, and with a shudder, I wrap my arms around my husband and cling to him. “I was horribly scared,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, stroking my hair. “God, Kitten, I know.”
I feel the tension in him, and I know what it means. I let him hold me a while longer, but then I have to pull back. I have to see his eyes. And he has to see mine. “It’s not your fault,” I say.
“Isn’t it? We should have looked more deeply at Patrick.”
“You looked. He was in Belgium. And he wasn’t the guy who injected me. Not directly.”
He ignores me. “I should have had armed guards at your doors.”
“Dammit, Hunter, don’t do this to yourself. You didn’t hurt me, you saved me. If you hadn’t come when you did—if you hadn’t killed—”
His mouth crushes against mine, silencing me. The kiss is long and hard, and I respond instantly, my body firing with the need to prove that I’m alive. That he is, too. And that the only way to truly heal is together.
“Hunter,” I murmur, breaking the kiss just long enough to breathe his name.
He doesn’t answer, just eases me back onto the bed, then slowly strips off his clothes before doing the same with mine.
My body is on fire, and I want him desperately, but he teases us both with the slowness of his movements. The tenderness of his touches, the sweetness of his kisses on my lips, my jaw, my breasts, my everywhere.
I tremble beneath him, letting his ministrations wash all of the fear out of me, until every cell in my body is full of him. His love, his desire, his need. Because then there’s no room for fear, only passion. Only love.
He takes me gently, his body strong over mine, as if he is protecting me even now as he claims me, and I arch up, craving that connection, needing to be one.
“I couldn’t stand to lose you,” he whispers as he moves in me.
“You can’t lose me,” I tell him as my soul spirals up, closer and closer. “We’re two halves of a whole. Don’t you know that?”
“I do,” he says. “But tonight, I need a reminder.”
“I’m yours,” I promise him, as he leads me right to the edge. “And I’m fine. Right now, I’m more than fine.” My voice trembles as I add the last, and after that I can’t talk anymore. We’d been moving languidly, but now passion takes over and he claims me fiercely as I scrabble for him, too, my nails digging into his back as I try to pull him into me, to finally, truly be one with him.
His body shudders violently, and he cries out my name, and I feel the force of his explosion ricocheting through me with such intensity it pushes me over and I shatter in his arms until, at last, we are twined together, bodies slick with sweat, neither of us knowing where one ends and the other begins.
“I love you,” he whispers. “And I will always keep you safe.”
“I know,” I tell him, snuggling close to this man—this miracle—my heart full of the knowledge that he is mine. And, more importantly, I am his.
Chapter Twenty-Two
One week later
“I’m going to miss you,” I tell Gabby. She and Ryan and Baxter and I are sharing fries—well, chips—and drinking wine before Ryan and I head off to the airport. “I never thought when I started this crazy trip to seduce my husband that it would end up even crazier.” I frown, then look sideways at Ryan. “Maybe I should stop that whole seduction thing. It’s a bit risky.”
“I eat risk for breakfast,” he says, stealing a fry off my plate. “And considering I’ve gained a sister-in-law, I have no regrets.” He and Gabby share a smile, and I know they’re both thinking of Felicia. The sister she never knew. The wife he never really had.
After a moment, she draws in a satisfied breath, then reaches for both our hands as she smiles at Baxter, across from her. “Seriously, you guys—I was in hell when I came here. My father—the only father I knew—had just died, and under pretty scary circumstances. And then suddenly I was running—or rather, hiding—for my life.”
I squeeze her hand. “But you’re safe now.”
She nods. “I know. Believe me. But I still don’t get why Carolyn and Patrick waited so long. I mean, why not kill me the moment they knew about the survivor period?”
“That’s part of why I wanted to see you today,” Ryan says. “Other than just saying good-bye, I mean.”
“We talked to William yesterday,” Baxter adds. “Carolyn didn’t know about you at first.”
Gabby takes another french fry as Ryan explains. “Apparently, your Uncle William got in touch with Jeff after Randall’s death. But Jeff was angry with Randall for never reaching out to you. Even so, he told William that he’d talk to you, and the decision about whether to make a claim would be yours.”
Gabby shakes her head. “He never told me. But about a year ago we did talk about what it would be like to win the lottery. It was a very strange conversation, actually, and I told him I thought it could end up being more of a curse than most people anticipate.”
“Maybe that’s how he justified the decision,” Baxter says. “Because somewhere he decided not to tell you.”
“But he changed his mind,” Gabby says, looking between Ryan and Baxter. “Do you know why?”
Ryan nods. “William called Jeff a few weeks ago and told him to reconsider. He said that Randall may have pulled away, but that he—that is, William—wanted a relationship, and that it had to start honestly.” He takes a sip of water. “But William was also ill at the time and on meds. He told me that after the conversation he got fuzzier, his health and mental acuity starting to fade.”
“They’d altered his meds,” I say.
Ryan nods. “Turns out that Carolyn hadn’t known about Gabby before, but she overheard the conversation. And about the time that Jeff was prepared to tell you, Carolyn and Patrick set the wheels in motion to take you out of the equation altogether.”
“Wow,” Gabby says. “It’s only luck that I survived the car wreck. And over here, you saved me. Literally. And I won’t ever forget it.”
“You won’t be able to forget it if I have anything to say about it,” I say.
Her forehead creases. “What do you mean?”
“I had a conference call with Matthew Holt last night. He totally wants to option the rights to your story. Yours too,” I say, pointing to Ryan. “And guess who’s going to work with him to produce? And maybe—fingers crossed—even star.”