This earns me a faint smile. “And you’re the only woman who’s ever called my bluff.”
“So, once I’ve put you through months of hell, we’ll be in this together?”
“Oui.” He slowly nods. “We always have been, haven’t we? Whether we wanted to be or not.”
I nod just as he expels a stressed breath and crushes me to him, his kiss lasting a blissful eternity. He delves deeply into my mouth, running his hands along my back. When he pulls away, I can feel some of the tension leave him. “Fuck,” he drops his head, “thank you. Let’s go home.”
I draw my brows. “And where’s that?”
He picks up his bag and shrugs. “You tell me.”
“So, you have been sleeping in the woods this whole time?”
I don’t miss his smile. “Maybe.”
“I have someone there, you know. You’ll have to fight with him for your place in bed.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And he’s just as much of an evil overlord as you are. French, too. You’re in for a fight.”
“I can take him.”
“I’m not so sure.”
I move to go to the passenger side, and he shakes his head and corners the trunk.
I draw my brows. “You’re letting me drive?”
We lock eyes over the top of the car. “I trust you.”
Three words.
Three words I never, ever thought I’d hear from Tobias King. More potent than any other words he could ever speak to me. I feel the weight of them as I gather myself in the driver’s seat, and Tobias climbs in, biting his lip to hide his smile as “Father Figure” sounds out when I turn on the car. I study him closely, his expression…content, his eyes filled with affection when he turns to me.
“I do trust you, and respect you more than any other and I heard you clearly, Cecelia. I always have. That mark was supposed to be a promise that I always would.”
My future has no more room for tears. I’ve shed enough for both our lifetimes. But I can’t help the one that sneaks away, with a foreign tinge to it that reeks of elation. And it terrifies me. Tobias reaches over, gripping my face. “There’s something else you should know.”
He rubs his thumb along my cheek. “I did watch. That night you told me you hoped I was watching. I was. I have been the whole time,” he whispers softly, “I couldn’t look away.”
A sob bursts from my lips as he draws us together, our foreheads touching. “I’ll make it up to you, every day I denied you, denied myself. I’ll make up for it for the rest of our punishment. Je t’aime, Cecelia. I love you so fucking much. Mon trésor.” His kiss isn’t gentle. It’s claiming, damning us both to the other for eternity. A punishment I’ll gladly live out and see through to beyond our lifetimes and the next. When he pulls back, I glance in the back seat.
“What’s in the grocery bag?”
“Breakfast. Ingredients for French toast.”
I lift a brow. “Debatable. Cinnamon?”
He dips his chin. “Two bottles.”
I can’t help my smile. I buckle my seat belt and put the car in gear and glance over to him. “Fair warning, my place isn’t exactly a palace.”
Not a palace but a waking dream.
A vision I had the night Dominic told me he wanted nothing for a future. A vivid dream of a long driveway lined with Bradford pear trees that bloom white in the spring. A driveway that leads to a house on top of a hill floating in the middle of the mountains. A small house with lots of built-in bookshelves, cozy reading nooks draped with soft plush blankets and throw pillows. And behind it, a garden filled to the brim with every imaginable scent and color. I’d searched for nearly a month before I found something resembling what I dreamt of. The day I closed on it, I painted the front door blood red. And then I stocked the fridge with a rare wine. My last touch was adding my French Bulldog, Beau.
After a long day at my café, feet aching, I sit in my garden with music drifting from every room of my house to where Beau and I sit on the patio overlooking new blooms. It might not be Roman’s palace, but it’s a real home—lived in. Comfortable. Untainted by secrets and lies. Aged, but untouched by the unforgiving world surrounding it. A sanctuary.