by Liliana Hart
Chapter Sixteen
The late morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, and Cade watched the play of shadows across the walls from the trees that blew with the rising wind. There would be a storm before long, inside as well as outside. There was too much between them that needed to be settled.
He’d managed not to drown them in the shower a half hour before, but it had been a close call. Hopefully, Bayleigh would be able to rest now—completely—with no nightmares of Carlos creeping up on her.
“I’m tired,” she muttered against his shoulder.
He turned his head to look at her. She still had her eyes closed, but the flush of perpetual desire had finally left her skin, and now she was pale as the moon. Dark circles rested under her eyes and her hair was mussed and tangled around her face. He’d never seen her looking more beautiful. Just the fact that she was alive was a miracle in itself.
Her announcement was so ridiculous that he would’ve laughed if he’d had the energy. “You should be,” he said. “I think I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”
“You’d better not be.” She tried to lean up on her arms, but didn’t have the strength to hold herself up long. “I’ve got to get home, and I need someone to carry me. Since you’re the only one here, I’m voting you for the job.”
His fingers tightened against her back as her words slammed against him. “Bayleigh,” he said. “I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me. Make your home with me.”
She tried to roll out of his arms, but the lethargy was too great, and he was able to stop her easily. He pinned her to the bed and made her look him in the eyes. There was no hiding now. He showed her everything that was swirling inside of him. Feelings he’d never let anyone else see.
“Don’t do this, Cade,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Let’s just chalk this up to a learning experience and move on. I don’t need you to say things you don’t mean because you think you’ve hurt my feelings. I’m fine, but I need to move on. It’s no big deal.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he growled. “You said you loved me, Bayleigh. Was it a lie?”
She swallowed audibly, and her gaze drifted to his shoulder. The vulnerability that flashed in her eyes made him want to kick himself. He’d done nothing but hurt her since they’d met. All because of his insecurities and fears. He needed more than anything to hear her say those words again.
“No.” The word was barely audible. “It wasn’t a lie. I love you. That won’t ever change.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and bowed his head so it rested against her forehead.
“You left me too soon,” he told her. “You didn’t hear all of what I said to Declan. I was running scared, baby, and I was trying to come up with any reason I could to keep denying what I felt for you. It didn’t take me long to realize that me denying it didn’t make it untrue.”
She tried to blink the tears back, her determination to not let him see her cry obvious. He remembered what her brother said. Bayleigh never cried. But it seemed that was all he’d made her do since he’d crushed whatever had been building between them with his callous words.
“I love you, Bayleigh. I mean every word of it. And I’ll mean it forever. The thought of losing you is almost paralyzing, and I can’t live without you.”
He leaned down and kissed her softly. Desire was a distant simmer, and all that was between them now was the love they had for each other. She lost the battle with her tears and they escaped, trailing slowly down her pale cheeks.
“Marry me, Bayleigh. Make me alive again. Be my future.”
Her arms tightened around him in a fierce embrace, and her “yes” was barely audible.
“Though I should probably make you suffer more,” she said, her smile wobbly.
“Undoubtedly. But if it makes you feel any better your brother has threatened to kick my ass.”
Her laughter brought joy into his heart—a joy he hadn’t felt in so long he couldn’t remember the last time. He held the woman he loved in his arms, knowing that he’d be able to face anything as long as she was by his side.
“I’ll protect you,” she whispered. “Always.”
“Always,” he promised.
Epilogue
Brant Scott stared at the bedroom ceiling, his heart still pounding and his cock still hard, as if he hadn’t already had two of the most powerful orgasms he’d ever experienced.
Darcy was curled around him, her thigh thrown over his leg and her hand resting low on his stomach. He could tell by her breathing that she was already asleep, and he tried not to think about how good she felt in his arms. How right she felt there.
This was a mistake. Two people thrown into a high-tension situation who’d needed an adrenaline outlet. That was all.
He’d known he would leave her even as he’d given into the temptation of that tight little body. He’d put up with her taunts, sharp tongue and dry wit until he’d had no choice but to silence her with his mouth or go crazy. And damned if she hadn’t matched his heat with her own, until he’d been all but dizzy with lust, ripping the clothes from her body like an animal and thrusting inside of her before they even managed to get inside the house.
Christ, just the thought how out of control it was made him want to turn her over and take her again. She did that to him. Made him lose every shred of control he’d ever had. And he’d vowed a long time ago that he’d never let another woman get to him that way. His first wife had taught him that lesson well enough.
Brant ignored the need in his body and slipped from beneath the covers, pulling them back up so Darcy wouldn’t get cold, and he touched her cheek once with the tip of his finger. The regret inside him stronger than he wanted to admit.
His clothes were nowhere in sight, and he rolled his eyes, remembering they were still on the front lawn. He had to get out of here. He’d already gotten the call earlier that he was needed for another assignment. The sooner he cut ties the better.
Darcy wasn’t a clinging woman. She’d understand what happened between them was nothing more than insanity, and never give it another thought. At least, that’s what he told himself. She might be hurt that he hadn’t said goodbye, but she’d understand. They were bound to see each other in the future, but he knew they’d be able to get through it without too much awkwardness.
Brant closed Darcy’s front door behind him and began gathering his clothes, ignoring the tightness in his chest. This was for the best, he kept telling himself over and over again as he dressed quickly.
His Jeep sported a couple of new bullet holes thanks to Carlos del Fuego’s men, but it still purred to life when he turned the key in the ignition. Brant fought the urge to look behind him as he drove away, but if he had, he would have seen Darcy at the window, the innocence that had once shone in her eyes shattered.
About the author:
Liliana Hart is the pseudonym for an author of more than a dozen books. She lives in Texas with her husband and cats, and loves to be contacted by readers.
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