Even the urges to be gentle that I’d felt before she knew who I was couldn’t compare, and I didn’t think it was solely the baby that brought out the softer side of my love for her. It hadn’t happened before the attack.
It only happened when she started looking at me differently. The thinly veiled suspicion that always lurked behind her eyes was gone, leaving nothing behind but love. Clear, unhidden, love.
The knock on the bedroom door came quickly, and I swung it open. Joaquin was silent on the other side, his brow raised with the question he didn’t want to ask. I nodded to confirm that she would be alright, taking the tray of fruit and croissants from his hands and kicking the door closed behind me without another word.
Isa finally leaned her weight into the tub as I stepped into the room and placed the tray of food on the edge where she’d rested her upper body. She watched me while I undressed. Her eyes filled with the faintest trace of heat, her desire and attraction for me strong enough to show even through the sadness that I suspected would linger within her for the rest of her life.
I scooted her forward in the tub, slipping my body between her and the side. My legs slid along hers, the smooth glide of her skin on mine as she leaned back and her ass settled into my cock tantalizing, despite the circumstances.
I picked up a strawberry as Isa shifted sideways between my legs so that I could look at her. Guiding it to her lips, I watched as she opened and let me feed her. She didn’t motion to do it herself or take it from me, chewing slowly and thoughtfully in silence. Unable to resist the urge, I licked my fingers clean before I reached over and pulled a chunk off the croissant to feed her. We sat in silence for a while, her head probably spinning as she ate and me simply enjoying the fact that she’d let me take care of her.
I wanted to spend the rest of my life just like this. Peaceful, with her in my arms and the problems outside our doors a world away when it was just the two of us, but tension crept back into her features when her hunger was satisfied.
The real world couldn’t be held off forever.
“Talk to me,” I said, touching a hand to her stomach. She covered my hand with hers, seeming to take comfort in it as we both held the child that I’d deceived her to create.
“I know she wasn’t perfect,” she said, her jaw clenching as she said the words.
“She wasn’t,” I agreed, wondering if Isa realized that nobody was. She’d spent so much of her life trying to live up to the perfect image her mother created, that I wondered if she ever really realized it had been an impossible standard.
“She wasn’t even really the mom I’d thought I had, in the end, and it wasn’t pretty for a bit,” she said, her thoughts coming in a stream of consciousness that she didn’t seem to have any control over. “But she was mine.” Her voice broke, cracking as she leaned her weight into my chest. I wrapped an arm around her, touching my mouth to the top of her head and letting her work her way through the shock of all that had happened.
I knew Isa well enough to know that she’d give herself one more day. One day to grieve and feel the loss she’d suffered after the conversation with her father.
Then she’d pick herself up, shove it down into the depths of her soul, and come back ready to fight.
“I promise you, they will all die for what they’ve done,mi reina,” I said, the soft murmur of my voice sounding so at odds with the words of vengeance.
“Slowly,” she confirmed.
“They’ll feel every moment of pain they’ve caused you by the time we’re done with them.” She nodded, burying her face into my skin and sinking back into my embrace.
One more day.
* * *
Isa sat in the center of the bed the next morning when I came back from checking with the men, making arrangements to have the plane ready for us to return home as soon as she was ready. Her hair was disheveled from her sleep, something hard in her gaze as she met my eyes.
“What is it,mi reina?” I asked, tossing my phone down on the ottoman at the end of the bed. She pursed her lips in thought, sinking her teeth into the plump flesh as I stepped around the side of the bed.
“What do they want with me?” she asked, her gaze so open despite the fact that she could clearly feel she was missing information. “I still don’t understand. I’mnobody.”
I studied her, watching her face for any traces of lingering suspicion that I might be keeping secrets from her. There was none to be found in her expression, and I knew I could continue keeping the last secret until the day I died if I wished.
For the first time, Isa had started to trust me for whatever reason. It was all out in the open and written on her face. My chest ached with an unfamiliar twinge of pain, and it didn’t take a genius to wrap my head around what it was.
Guilt.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt guilty for something I’d done or a secret I’d kept, but knowing Isa didn’t expect this?
That made it impossible to bear.
I stretched to the ottoman, grabbing my phone and unlocking the screen to search through my emails until I found the attachment I was looking for. The photo of the contract that had sealed Isa’s fate stared back at me. “They want you because Dima has wanted you from the moment he first saw you at the river that day,” I said, running a hand through my hair as her face twisted in pain.
“What are you talking about?”
“He was there with my father. From what you said, he wasn’t involved in throwing you into the water, but they were together.” I turned the phone, placing it in her hands as she tore her eyes away from me and looked down at the screen.