She sucked in her breath, her gaze searching his. Wanting to believe. Needing to believe.
Then he kissed her.
Her lips seared him to the core. With every beat of his heart, he loved her. And all he wanted to do was make his vow of a month ago true; he wanted to spend the rest of his life kissing her.
She moved beneath him on the white blanket of the bed. Above him, he could hear the soft whir of the ceiling fan, hear the cry of the morning birds outside, feel the soft breeze against his naked body.
He touched her naked skin, bronzed from so many days spent outside. He stroked her body all over, worshipping her with his fingertips, with his hands, with his mouth. He was hard and aching for her.
“You love me,” she repeated in wonder and joy. “You love me?”
“So much,” he gasped. “You have my heart forever.”
He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheekbones, her mouth. With a groan, he caressed her body, pressing his legs between her thighs.
When he finally pushed himself inside her, he nearly cried out from the force of his pleasure.
He moved inside her slowly, savoring every second and every inch of his possession. Although—was he possessing her? Or was she possessing him?
She gripped his shoulders, throwing her head back, revealing her swanlike throat.
“I love you,” he whispered as he pushed inside her again. He saw the light of joy in her eyes, and was astonished to suddenly taste the salt of tears—his own.
He held her tenderly, moving deeply and slowly inside her until he felt her tense. Until he felt her shake.
Whatever happened, he could not stop. Whatever happened, he prayed he could love her always.
Closing his eyes, he thrust into her one last time. He felt her coil around him, heard her gasp.
“I love you,” he cried. And as the force of his words slammed through his soul, he threw his head back and poured his seed into her with a shout of pure happiness.
Collapsing back on the bed, he held her tightly. She was his love—his life. He kissed her temple, pressing his hand against her sweaty face. Praying that somehow, they would be happy.
For one second, he thought they could be.
Then he felt her stiffen in his arms.
He felt her hands pushing at him, shoving at him.
“Get away from me!” Rolling away from him on the bed, she leapt to her feet. “Oh my God!”
He looked at his wife, the woman who had been so joyfully caressing his body just moments before. By the angry, furious, hateful look in her suddenly proud face, he knew his worst nightmare had come true.
Eve no longer had amnesia.
She stood naked in front of him, her dark hair brushing against her tanned skin as she quivered in rage. Her full breasts heaved over the slight curve of his child in her belly with every pant of her breath. Her blue eyes glared at him with such force he was surprised he didn’t die instantly from the blunt icy dagger of her hatred.
Eve’s beauty was perfect, and now—to him—it was forever unattainable.
He had lost the sweet woman he loved. He’d lost her forever.
When Talos said he loved her, Eve thought she’d die of joy.
After so many months of yearning, she’d finally felt her husband’s arms around her and heard him tell her what she’d longed to hear. She’d known happiness she didn’t know was possible in mortal life. Then he’d made love to her so tenderly, with such deep, intense passion, her soul had soared to the dizzying heights of heaven.
Then he’d released her, and she’d come crashing down.
Down. Down. Down.