Kyle’s mother reported that I had been abducted and held captive for six months, and that I would receive help from the best therapists. A while later, it was announced my engagement to Kyle was off, with reassurances that he still loved me and wished me well in my recovery.
After a while, the stories died down, and it was now rare that someone stopped me on the street or in a store to ask if they knew me.
Kyle and I had very little contact even when we created our stories. The last I’d heard he was engaged again, and I was happy for him—it was what he deserved. Someone to love him the way my husband fiercely loved me.
And my husband was . . . my devil, I thought with a heated shudder when he stepped up behind me after I had undressed, minutes later.
“She in bed?”
A sound of confirmation hummed in his throat, and his nose skimmed up my neck. “Tell me what you want.”
“You already know, and you already teased me with it.” I reached behind me to drag my fingers through his hair, scratching lightly down his neck.
“More?” he asked darkly and slowly fisted his hand in my long blonde hair.
“Always,” I breathed as I waited eagerly for what would come. Because I wanted the pain with the pleasure until I couldn’t separate them anymore, and I knew he wanted to give me both.
He was still my devil and I was still his blackbird, and I didn’t want us to ever change. His dark was there, swirling around him, but it had changed the night we left Houston. It was as if something had broken inside him, and he’d never had to struggle to fight against it since.
He was free, as was I.
He was my darkness, and I was his light. And when we collided, it was still nothing short of incredible.
The spoken-for Princess of the Irish-American Mob, and the man who sets her world on fire with just one touch – but who would take her life if he knew who she was . . .
*****