In the space of less than a day, it feels as if Ana has ripped my heart out and pieced it back together, all at once.
I feel terrible that I’d raised my voice to her yesterday, that I’d let the meeting with the Kings, the discussion with Niall, and the call from Alexandre—my entire fucking day, really, get under my skin and taking it out on her. I’d felt the things I’d said, they hadn’t been just said in anger, but I’m not entirely sure that they’dneededto be said.
And then what had happened afterward—
I close my eyes, leaning back against the seat. I can feel myself getting pulled deeper and deeper, falling more in lust with her every day—and in love, too. I’ve never felt like this for any woman, and I know it’s more than just desire. I want to live a life with her, areallife, through all the ups and downs and hardships and joys that come with that. I want to support her in whatever way she needs to build a life for herself that will make her happy, now that dancing is no longer an option.
My phone buzzes, and I grit my teeth, feeling my entire body tense up. I relax fractionally when I see that it’s just a text from Niall. Still, the possibility that it could have been Alexandre has me on edge all over again.
I know I should have told Ana about the call—but I’m afraid of what her response would have been. I’d nearly said something during the fight, but then the tone had shifted, and we’d ended up—well, I remember all too clearly what we’d ended up doing. And after that, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.
After she’d fallen asleep last night in my arms, I’d laid there for a long time, thinking. I’d watched her sleep, her light eyelashes soft against her face, her body more relaxed than I’d seen her in a long time, next to me. I’d imagined it every day, for the rest of our lives.
And I’d known at that moment that if Alexandre came back, if he tried to take her from me, I’d kill him to keep that from happening. I can’t lose her, no matter what it takes. No matter what I have to do.
I have to find a way to end things with Saoirse, I know that—and I know that that too, is something Ana should probably know about. But both of those things could tear apart the fragile peace we’ve built, the things we’re exploring with each other. Would she trust me, touch me, let herself put Alexandre behind her, and start to heal and build a future with me if she knew I had an obligatory fiancée that I needed to break my contract with? Would she believe me if I said that I don’t love Saoirse, that I don’t want to marry her, that I only ever signed the contract so I could buy time to find her?
I don’t know, just as I don’t know what her reaction would be if I told her that Alexandre is looking for her, that he very well could be here in the States now, hatching a plan to find her. If the look in her eyes was a relief or hope, or even joy—even if it was involuntary, even if she didn’t truly mean it, I’m not sure I could take it.
I think it would break what’s left of me that can fight for this. Her crying out Alexandre’s name as I’d made love to her nearly had. I’m on the verge of coming apart, too, the guilt of what happened in Paris eating at me, the knowledge of her lingering feelings making it hard to be patient, no matter how much I want to.
When I’d told her that I couldn’t understand, but that I didn’t blame her, I’d meant it. But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. I don’t understand how she could have wanted any of it, how she could have loved him. But deep down, I know that I don’t have to.
He can’t take her from me. Not now.I clench my hand around my phone. I’ll have to tell Niall about the call. He’ll have advice for me, I’m sure of it—I’m just not sure if it’s entirely advice I’ll want to hear.
I know he thinks I should give up on Ana, marry Saoirse, and carry on with the life I’d been meant to have before meeting Ana in Russia. But for me, there’s a clear before and after—and the day I met Ana is a defining moment, and the afternoon I spent with her in that garden is another. Everything that’s come since has only underlined the one thing that I can’t get away from, no matter how hard I try—that I want her to be mine, that the longer I spend with her, the more Ineedher.
But I have to tread carefully. My father tried to circumvent the ways of the Kings, and he’d paid with it for his life. Not by their hands—but not a single man stepped up to try to stop what Viktor and Luca had agreed on. They weren’t going to risk themselves for him after what he’d done. And I couldn’t blame them.
I could step down, leave it all behind, as my brother did. But until I’m left with no choice, I refuse to do that. The McGregor’s lead the Kings—it’s been so, for three generations. I’m the last of my family, the only one left to hold the seat. I’ll be damned if I’ll give it to one of the old vultures who want it for their own, simply because I want to choose my own wife and not the Irish princess they’ve chosen for me.
If it comes to that, I’ll leave the Kings behind, if that’s what’s necessary to have Ana, to protect her.
But I don’t plan to make it easy for them.
---
By the time I get back home in the evening, all I can think about is Ana. The meetings with the Kings thatdidn’tinvolve Graham or talk of a wedding went well enough, but when I met with Graham to discuss a shipment, his chilly demeanor was enough to let me know that my reticence about the August wedding date hadn’t been forgotten. And as for Niall—
Predictably, his response to my telling him about Alexandre’s call had been to suggest that Ana might be safest back in Manhattan, under Luca or Viktor’s watchful eye. He’d given me a knowing look when I’d argued that my security team was easily as good as theirs.
“If you want what’s best for her, perhaps she shouldn’t be here,” he’d said simply. “But,” he’d added, “I know you’re not going to listen to that advice. I’ll make sure all of our security teams have a description of him. And Liam—”
I’d eyed him, knowing I wasn’t going to like whatever was coming next.
“You need to tell her.”
I know that the last part is true.I’ll find a time,I tell myself.I’m not keeping it from her. I’m just waiting until the right time.
Much like the night before, I’m greeted with the smell of dinner cooking as I walk in the front door.Better not let it burn this time,I tell myself wryly, shutting the door behind me.
I could get used to this.I’ve always enjoyed my penthouse, especially since having it decorated more to my taste. Still, it’s never felt like ahome.
“This feels good,” I tell Ana as she walks towards me, still in her floral sundress with an apron over it. I have no fucking idea where she got an apron, but I don’t care. She smells like fresh bread and tomato sauce, and I pull her close to me, bending to brush my lips over hers.
“What does?” She looks up at me with those bright blue eyes, stealing a second kiss before I pull back. I close my eyes briefly when her lips touch mine again, wanting to sink into the kiss, to stay in this moment where nothing matters except her and me.
“Coming home to you.” I brush a piece of hair out of her face. “Coming home to dinner. Feeling like I’m cominghomeat all.”