Chapter 10 Tristan
TRISTAN
Icaress her back, and she’s so still, surely rummaging through my not wanting children. It was something I hadn’t planned to disclose. Not for now, at least, but the discussion veered out of my control. Nothing new when it comes to her, but fuck if that doesn’t frustrate me to no end.
“Why?” she whispers.
My body pulls taut. A muscle might snap any second. “My blood is tainted.”
I have never been this open with anyone else, but she’s proficient at unraveling me, peeling one dark layer after another, baring my unsalvageable soul. While I try to protect her from that black hole, she’s drawn to it.
“A few moments ago, my fear was that you had someone else, an entire life separate from me. Now I am just sad—for you. For thinking you’re not good enough.”
“It has nothing to do with that,” I grit out.
Her eyes shine with warmth as she cups my face. “You can’t hide from me just like I can’t hide from you, Tristan. Get used to it. While I won’t force you to confide in me, we promised to be honest with each other. That’s all we have.”
She sounds like that’s all we’ll have—this honesty before we return to our lives where we do nothing else but pretend.
I change the topic before I slip in a heated moment.
“Were you jealous?” I ask, wanting to erase any trace of doubt.
Until she is secure, I will double my efforts in proving to her that she’s all I see, all I think about every second of every day.
A sigh heaves her chest, aware of my tactic. “Yes, but more than that, it pained me. It hurt so badly I couldn’t even breathe.”
Her jealousy shouldn’t make me feel good, but it does—sick asshole.
Her distress is something I am doing my best to postpone, wishing her to hold on to what I gave her during the time I could. It also proves she has feelings for me, and I could never regret that.
Placing my hand on hers, I lower it to my mouth, kissing her palm. “My life consists of work and more work, mo run. You have been the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”
She tilts her face and gifts me one of those radiant smiles that causes my heart to pound in my chest like a beast loose in the wild after a lifetime of captivity.
She closes her eyes as if memorizing my words.
A small yawn parts her lips, and I lift her up, carrying her to the bedroom.
On the bed, she snuggles into my side in a silent warning not to leave.
“I won’t go anywhere,” I promise her.
She caresses my stomach. “I worry about you and your lack of sleep.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten used to it.”
It takes inhuman strength not to slip inside of her, knowing I would sleep then—buried deep inside her heaven, my demons stand no chance to disturb the few peaceful moments.
I’ve been patient. I consider myself the master of my body with unshakable control, but this woman threatens it just by breathing my way. She’s not making it easy for me as her fingers inch lower, grazing my boxer briefs.
My cock is already hard and weeping. I am one touch away from saying fuck it all and just having my way with her.
This waiting is pure torture.
Taking it slow is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
But once I lose myself inside her, I’ll take and take some more, ravish and devour her, turn her into my personal fuck toy. Before that, I need her not to question anything, my feelings included.
By the time I have her, she will be willing, accepting—entirely mine.
I grip her hand and place it on my chest.
Her lips push out in a pout. She is so adorable and I am a lucky bastard. For now. Even though only stupid men believe in luck. I’ve created mine, but with her there are loose ends, variables I can’t predict the outcome of. Numerous things could go wrong, and I must prepare for every scenario.
“Sex helps with sleep,” she murmurs.
I chuckle. “You would know from your vast experience.”
She gasps, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you making fun of me?”
I shake my head, barely containing my laughter. “No. I fucking love that it’s been only me.”
“I told you I kissed someone else before you,” she sasses me.
In an instant, I roll her onto her back, gripping the base of her neck. “Don’t remind me. I’m trying hard to forget it.”
“Why?” she breathes out, licking her lips. My good girl with a bad side loves to see me undone.
“So, I don’t go find him.” I let the threat dangle, and her eyes widen.
There’s fear but something else too. She wants to think she is a Mafia princess who has nothing to do with that world, but darkness has a way of sneaking in, corrupting everyone.
She accepts my unhinged ass because it’s nothing novel for her, sensing the power lurking behind. And power gets you drunk on it.
“What would you do to him? It wouldn’t change a thing,” she says, searching my eyes to find the substance of my core. It’s pitch black, but she’ll discover that at some point.
“What do you think I will do?” I ask, playfully.
Tilting her head, she gulps, aware of my lack of conscience, but she’s too wrapped up in this dreamlike reality.
Her heart has been yearning for something like what we share her entire life, silencing her alarm bells.
That’s the tragedy. Once you find what you’ve been seeking, you become blind to how you got it, what it means to have it.
“He’s dangerous.”
It takes everything in me to suppress my amusement. “Are you worried about me?”
“Yes,” she huffs, sounding annoyed.
Such a good woman who caught the attention of a killer. It is what it is, and while something unpleasant strikes me, I dismiss it.
I want her. And I will get her. The how is irrelevant. In my world, I am untouchable.
“Don’t be, mo run. Be worried for anyone else, but not me.” I kiss the top of her head and resume stroking her back.
Her slow inhale and exhale deepen, and I continue caressing her until my eyes close.
I focus just on my hands gliding up and down her soft skin, my fingertips warming along her hot body. Touching her eases me enough that my demons retreat.
The cure for all my ailments.
No wonder I wake up feeling invigorated. She is adept at making me sleep so deeply that I don’t sense her when she leaves my bed. My woman has perfected turning into a silent mouse—stealthy whenever she has or wants to be.
Groaning low in my throat, I search for her, finding her in the kitchen, making pancakes. It became a weekly tradition, one I am keen to preserve.
Leaning against the doorframe, I watch as she sways her hips to the music playing from the walls and flips the pancakes. She appears so unperturbed right now.
I don’t know how long I just gaze at her. Enough to realize that what I feel for her goes beyond madness and straight into obsession. Enough to know that I will never let her go, regardless of the implications.
“How long are you going to keep watching me?” she asks, smiling under her breath as she stacks the pancakes.
“Until I get my fill.” I doubt that will ever happen. A lifetime doesn’t seem enough. Not even forever comes close.
She tilts her head, eyeing me from the side, and bites her lip. “Is that so?” Her sweet voice ends on a seductive rasp.
“You minx.” I shake my head at her and erase the distance between us in three strides. Grabbing her waist, I push her up onto the counter, a whoosh of air escaping her mouth.
There’s not an inch of space between us.
That’s all she needs for her eyes to glaze over.
Her body is primed and ready, just like my cock is eager.
But first, I want our emotional connection firmly locked in place.
I am not afraid of her body melting into my arms, but of her heart, thinking if I am not rooted deep enough, she could yank me out.
Brushing my nose along her neck, a tremor rocks her. Affecting her affects me, and I grip the edge of the counter, restraining myself not to take her. Soon, but it feels like a damn eternity.
“Keep playing games with me. I will take it out on your body.”
“Promise?”
I throw my head back and laugh so wholeheartedly that I didn’t even think I could produce these sounds. She’s a wondrous delight.
Palming my chest, she murmurs as if talking to my heart. “I don’t want this to end.”
I cradle her face, kissing her forehead. “It won’t.”
At the table, we eat the sweet and savory pancakes, and she says, “I don’t know if I can make it next weekend.”
“It’s out of the question.”
“Tristan,” she tries, but I remain vehement.
“Your weekends are mine,” I say, brooking no argument.
She sighs. “I—”
“No discussion.”
“Tr—”
I cut her off, casting her an intent look. “I didn’t stutter, did I?”
“Fine, I’m telling Evie then.”
I shrug. “Tell whoever you want.”
That ends her rant because she munches on the pancakes, mumbling something like stubborn ass.
I might be especially determined when it comes to her. She has no idea how hard it is to resist taking her, moving her in—the image of going to bed and waking with her daily intoxicates me.
A frown digs between her brows. “So, it wouldn’t bother you if she finds out?”
“She is my sister, but she won’t tell me if I can or can’t be with you.” I grip her hand on the table and look deep into her eyes. “I want you to erase the thought from your mind that this is not serious or that I’ll let you go.”
She gulps, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Whatever arguments she presents, I am ready to decimate them one after another.
“I’m a Mafia princess,” she says, closing her eyes as if she said something despicable and doesn’t want to face me not wanting her.
“I know, mo run.”
Her eyes shoot open. “What? How? I don’t understand.”
“I know people from all domains, Viviana,” I say in the softest tone I can conjure.
She chews on her lip, worry tightening her features. “But you should…”
“Be afraid?” I ask, and she dips her chin in a small nod.
“I’m not.”
Chin quivering, she bursts into tears and hides her face between her palms. Those pained sounds butcher me, and I shoot up from my seat. The chair topples over and scrapes at the tiles, just like my heart.
I can’t stand her tears, so I wrap my arms around her. “Please, mo run. It fucking kills me. Stop crying, I promise it will be all right.”
She spreads her fingers, eyeing me with glistening eyes. “You can’t promise that. I will have to marry someone of my family’s choosing.”
I pull her hands down to make her see how earnest I am. “You won’t marry anyone else but me.”
She cries some more, and I hold her as she stammers, “The men in my family are…” She hiccups, unable to finish her sentence.
Killers. Monsters. She lies in the arms of one.
It takes everything in me not to reveal that I am even worse.
“I’ll deal with them.” Not knowing how else to assure her, I cup her cheeks and press my mouth to hers.
She opens to me, welcoming the deceiver with such eagerness it undoes me.
Only after she has calmed down do I return to my seat.
“Eat, baby. After breakfast, we’re going to the stables.”
She blinks the tears away, smiling at me with her entire face, her heart reflecting in her eyes.
“Really?” she squeals in pure joy.
She scarfs the food down, and as she goes upstairs to change, I bring the two boxes from my car inside, then walk upstairs and lay them on the bed.
She approaches me, grazing her finger over them. “Are those for me?”
Nerves scrape at my throat, making it difficult to form words, and all I can do is nod. I’ve never given a gift to a woman before.
She opens the orange boxes, revealing riding gear, a helmet and boots.
Looking from the items spread on the bed to me, she jumps into my arms. “Thank you.” She smacks my lips with a kiss. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you so much.” She finishes with another one.
“Anything for you. You just name it, and it’s yours.” I say it as a vow I intend to keep for a lifetime.
“Oh, Tristan, stop stealing my heart.”
A wide grin stretches the corners of my mouth. “Can’t, mo run, I need to be worthy of claiming it as mine.”
In the car, she bounces up and down, her excitement contagious. “Is the farm a hobby or a business?”
“Both.”
Horses were perhaps the only thing in my childhood that gave me emotional support. And while I breed top performers, it’s also a safe environment for those who are retired, too old to bring in the money.
“I’d love to see a race.”
I dip my chin in acknowledgement, memorizing everything she desires not only to make them a reality but to use them to win her back when things implode between us.
Once we reach the farm, Finn comes over, eyeing me with certainty. He nods her way, realizing she is important if I brought her a second time.
Lifting onto her toes, she slants her mouth onto mine. I fucking love that she doesn’t care we’re in the open, needing me too much to care and takes off, going straight to Altea.
I jerk my chin toward a groom, and he follows her discreetly to watch over her. If something happens to her, there will be a hell of all hells to pay.
“Lady Midnight is pregnant. I have informed some potential clients, and they’re overbidding themselves for a purebred.”
“Good. Keep me informed about her progress,” I say. “Expect a delivery this week.”
He tips his chin in acknowledgment. “If you don’t mind me saying, Boss. You look happy.”
“I do mind. So, keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“Of course. Should I call her the future Mrs. Kinkaid?”
I glare at him. “Treat her as if she’s the most important person in your life.”
“Will do, Boss.”
I stride inside the barn where she caresses Altea’s muzzle, beaming at her before she puts on the halter and brings her out.
“I want to learn faster so we can ride together.”
She says things like that, and my damn heart melts, putty in her hands.
“Be patient. It takes time, and I am not risking your getting hurt.”
She rolls her eyes but purses her lips in acceptance.
Brat.
Once she’s mounted, we spend the rest of the day with her practicing on a lunge line, a sitting trot, and then a posting trot. Noticing she’s comfortable, I even give in and let her off the line to trot on her own in the arena. I am a sucker for her smile.
From the corner of my eye, I catch my men stealing glances at me, looking gobsmacked. I pierce them with a harsh look, and they scatter away, getting back to the one thing they shouldn’t have ignored. Work.
By the time we leave, the sky has turned a deep blue. In the sun’s place, the first stars twinkle above us—where time is irrelevant, and light never fades—endless.
The infinite universe towers over us like a conceited asshole, unbothered by what happens below.
Inside the car, she inhales a deep breath, the sound chock-full of dejection.
Just for a little while longer, and then she will never have to yearn for this life. It will be hers. Everything I own is hers.