Glancing at the tea service, then around the posh hotel, I say. “This is all very… formal.”
“You know I like nice things,” he says dismissively, his eyes narrowing. “So do you, so don’t act put out. Would you like some tea? It’s not fish and chips and a pint with that oaf you were with, but still…”
“You have no right to be mad I was out on a date,” I snap.
“Did you fuck him?” he growls, moving to the edge of his chair as if he’s crowding me.
There’s something primal in his tone, something so possessive that a shiver shoots up my spine. I force myself not to enjoy it. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is,” he says quietly, leaning even further into my space. “Because if you did—or fucked anyone for that matter—I’m out of here.”
I can’t help it. I laugh, tipping my head back and letting it out before dipping my chin and sobering. “That’s rich, Saint. I betray you. You betray me. Now you’re worried about me fucking some guy, which would not be a betrayal, by the way, because we aren’t together.”
“I say we are,” he replies smoothly, now casually leaning back in his chair, crossing one leg over another again. He puts his elbow on the armrest, touching his fingertips to his chin as he appraises me. “I’ve been waiting for you to get over your snit so we could move past all this.”
“My snit,” I practically screech. “You had me drugged and kidnapped. You made plans without me. You went all caveman and treated me like someone who was not at all capable in helping you out. You—”
“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly I barely hear him. But it’s enough to stop my tirade. “I’m sorry, and I was wrong to do that.”
I blink, not sure what to say now. There’s no doubting the sincerity of his words. I can hear it clear as day. See it on his face. He’s not bullshitting me.
“I was so worried about your safety, Sin, that I took matters into my own hands and figured I’d worry about the consequences later. I can only say I wasn’t thinking straight. That my feelings for you were so strong I couldn’t see a better way past my worries. Nothing mattered to me but making sure you walked away alive. Didn’t matter if I did. Didn’t matter if I got caught. Didn’t matter if everything went to shit, as long as you walked away alive. I made those plans figuring there was a damn good chance Mercier was going to kill me. I was okay with that, as long as you got to live. Do I regret how that made you feel? Am I sorry for lessening you as a woman and as my partner? Yes to it all. I regret it. But as I’m sitting here right now, looking at you alive, healthy, and beautiful even in your fury, I still have to think I made the right decision.”
I wait for a flash of anger to hit me because while it was a beautiful apology, it had ended with him stating he doesn’t think he did anything wrong… which kind of negates the entire thing. I sigh.
“What I’m saying,” he continues, “is I’m sorry for doing that to you, but I cannot help being grateful I got the outcome I wanted.”
God, he’s so frustrating, but damn if I’m not bloody well charmed by him.
With a huff, I lean my head against the high back of the chair. “How do we even go about trusting each other again?”
“I do trust you, Sin,” he says, managing to surprise me. “Despite everything, I trust you with my life and my heart.”
Heart?
He wants me to care for his heart?
“It was important to you that I forgive you for what you did to me,” he says.
I nod. That’s true.
“I’m asking for the same thing. Let’s start with forgiveness. I’ve said I’m sorry. I went about it the wrong way. I’m asking you to let that go and forgive me. Can you at least do that?”
He’s breaking this down so nicely. It’s quid pro quo, and I’d be the biggest kind of arsehole not to give him what he gave to me. And let’s face it, he lost a lot because of what I did.
I suddenly feel small and petty when I realize that what he did to me doesn’t compare to what I’d done to him. Not that it’s a game of one-upmanship, but, clearly, Saint had been in prison and hadn’t had the chance to see his mother before she’d died.
The worst that happened to me had been a needle in my neck and missing out on a dangerous drop off that could have cost me my life.
I fold my hands in my lap, staring at my fingers. I can’t even bear to look at him as I murmur, “I forgive you.”
Those words seem so inadequate. Sure, Saint and I had both been operating from the same place of care and worry over each other. Our reasons had been—some would even argue—altruistic. However, the consequences to him were severe while I’d merely had my feelings hurt.
Gah… I’m the world’s biggest arsehole. I don’t deserve him.
It hits me… I need to flee. Get out of here. Out of the Rosewood. Let Saint move on to a life with someone who—
“And now,” he says smoothly, cutting into my thoughts. My eyes fly to his. “Can we get to the I love you part?”
I blink.
Blink again.
Jaw dropping slightly, I ask, “Excuse me?”
“The I love you part,” he repeats, now scooting to the edge of his chair and reaching out to snag my hand in his. He leans in. “I love you, Sin. You are my soulmate—as cliché as that sounds. There isn’t another woman I could even remotely love. You’re it for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to get married and have babies and grow old together. I want it all. The life we’re supposed to have because God knows… we’ve both been through fucking hell to get here.”
And suddenly… nothing about our past matters. Not if forgiveness has been so freely given and accepted.
What matters is right now.
And tomorrow.
And all the days to come.
I uncurl my legs, then lurch out of the chair to throw myself at Saint. He catches me easily, suavely maneuvering me sideways onto his lap. My arms around his neck locked in a death grip, I bury my face in his neck where I’m able to whisper, “I love you, too. So much. And I want a future with you. It’s the only thing I want.”
“Marriage and babies?” he asks, and I jerk up to see his face.
And God… that look.
I feel like I could get pregnant from the intensity of his gaze on me right now.
“We’d make beautiful babies,” he points out.
“We could get started right now,” I counter, looking over to the elevators. “You can take me up to your room… and we could so get started right now.”
Saint is up and out of his chair so fast I yelp, grabbing at his shoulders to hang on. Doesn’t matter. His arms are strong, and he strides through the lobby confidently carrying me.
Anyone who’s watching knows exactly where we’re going and what we’re about to do.
I smile, resting my head on his shoulder.
It’s the beginning of our new life together.
EPILOGUE
Saint
Two months later…
“It’s a perfect day for an outdoor wedding,” Sin says as we move into the second row of chairs from the front.