Swiping a tissue over Lino’s little lips, she sighed heavily. “Life is never easy.”
Silence fell for a time, our thoughts on the complications of lust and betrayal.
Finally, I said, “But love…that is easy.” I twirled the spare fork in front of me on the kitchen bench. “Or at least…giving it is easy. Earning it can sometimes be incredibly hard.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
I wanted to ask more of how she’d not only been sold to Q but fallen in love and married him, but a loud hum rapidly built to a buzzing crescendo outside.
What on earth…
“Uh-oh.” Tess checked Lino was tightly strapped into his booster seat then gave me a sharp look. “This man of yours…he doesn’t happen to have a helicopter, does he?”
My heart coughed as my head whipped to face the large glass doors leading to the garden.
Night had fallen, and our reflection bounced back rather than manicured lawns and trimmed bushes.
A flash of light appeared, spotlighting the paddock in the distance.
The buzzing grew louder.
Oh, my God.
He’s here.
Tess wrapped arms around herself. “I’m assuming by your silence that’s the man you call Elder?” She marched to the patio doors. “Crap, I don’t know where Q is.”
Looking at me over her shoulder, she scowled. “You’d better tell me…how bad is this going to be?”
Drifting forward, I slotted myself beside her, mimicking her stance and hugging myself.
How bad is this going to be?
I swallowed hard. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Oh, I do.” Tess rolled her eyes. “They’re men. They’re morons when it comes to defending honour and all that bullshit.” She huffed. “I wish Q wasn’t lurking around somewhere. If we could keep them apart, this would all go a lot smoother.”
I agreed with her even as my heart blew iridescent bubbles, filling my ribcage with happiness. I struggled to stay rational. Last time I’d seen Elder, he’d limped and looked worse for wear—and that was thanks to the Chinmoku before Q ever shot him.
I’m asking for a miracle if I expect him to be here, let alone walk without assistance.
Selix had probably banned him from coming.
Even as the thought appeared, my common sense discarded it. If Elder was awake, no one could tell him what to do—and therein lay the problem.
Slowly, the helicopter descended from sky to grass, its rotors diminishing in speed once on the ground. Almost immediately, the side fuselage slid open and Selix hopped out.
I needed to know the story of where he’d been while the Chinmoku attacked, but for now, my mind was on a single thread.
Elder…did he come, too?
My fingers pressed against the glass, doing my best to see past my reflection and the brightly lit lounge to focus on whether the helicopter had brought any other visitors.
No one.
No flicker of legs or flash of hands.
My heart plummeted.
And then…he appeared.
A small grateful moan escaped.
Where Selix had leapt out, Elder gingerly climbed. Where Selix darted around, Elder painfully stalked.
He was naturally graceful from his martial arts and exotic breeding, but tonight, he reminded me of the tin man from The Wizard of Oz badly in need of oil and rest.
I winced as he stumbled then doggedly continued across the lawn toward us.
I couldn’t stand here and not run to him. I couldn’t watch him hurt and not offer aid.
Fumbling with the door handle, I flicked the lock and practically fell out of the house.
“Wait!” Tess called. “We need to think this through!”
She was right. We did need to think this through. But I’d done far too much thinking and knew where my loyalties lay.
With him.
Tripping once in haste, I found my legs and bolted across the patio.
The pretty flower beds and bird tables were nothing as I traded tiles for grass and added every inch of speed I could muster.
Elder’s head snapped up as I galloped toward him. His limp turned quicker, one hand fisted by his side while his other stayed strapped to his chest. Something bulky wrapped around his ankle, preventing speed. More bandages and splints only made me run faster.
My lungs gasped and my legs burned, and when I was in touching distance, I slammed to a stop, breathing hard, eyes wide, lips parted.
I wanted to throw myself at him and delete the horrible distance. I wanted to kiss every inch of his bruised, beautiful face and finally convince my pessimism that he was alive and not a ghost.
But I swayed on the spot, unable to grab him for fear of adding yet more pain.
Up close, the lines around his gorgeous black eyes and furrows on his brow hinted at how much this excursion taxed him. A faint sheen of fever pinked his face, saying he wasn’t as invincible as he seemed.
His eyebrow rose, studying me with parted lips; his black hair tussled and wind swept from the still roaring helicopter blades.
Every emotion and reaction and spark and connection fizzed in the air between us—tangible, visible, almost alive with delicious taste.