Chapter Eleven
E vren made sure everything was up and running smoothly, double- and triple-checking all systems so there wouldn’t be any problems for Saxon.
Not that he’d be a horrible security chief, but Sax had his own way of dealing with issues.
Like the therapy he was no doubt hunting for now.
His brother didn’t use conventional means to deal with his trauma.
He needed blood and pain, and not necessarily his own.
In the back of Evren’s mind, his words replayed.
Asking if he was positive this was the path he wanted to take.
As always, Lowen lurked around the edges of his thoughts.
Saying he was going to run with her had come out of nowhere.
He certainly had no previous thoughts of doing that, but as he sat at the table listening to Jeremiah, he couldn’t let her leave and disappear.
She brought out his protective instincts, and truth be known, it felt right. Like he should be by her side.
As he made his way up to his penthouse, he made a mental rundown of stuff he’d need to pack. When he opened the door, he was hit with the most delicious scent—garlic, tomatoes, spices. His stomach rumbled in appreciation.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” he said, smiling. He’d said the same thing the other night and he thought it was cute.
Lowen came out to greet him, a big smile on her mouth. “Dinner’s ready. Wanna wash up?”
He glanced at her mouth and had a strong urge to kiss her. Instead, he turned and headed toward his bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
After he used the restroom and washed his hands, he slipped off his jacket and loosened his tie, tossing both on the bed.
As he headed back toward the dining room, he heard humming and peeked around the corner to see Lowen dancing to her tune.
A small smile graced her mouth. Her dark hair was in a high ponytail, showcasing the delicate line of her jaw.
Although she still looked fragile, her hauntingly skeletal frame no longer hunched over in an effort to make herself appear smaller.
Pulling out his phone, he found “At Last” by Etta James and hit “play.” As the first bars came through the speaker, Lowen spun around. Evren placed the phone on the island and held his hand out to her.
“May I have this dance?”
For a moment, she looked from him to his hand and back, and then as if coming out of a trance she took hold. Pulling her in close, he wrapped an arm around her lower back as they swayed to the music.
“You have the most beautiful eyes,” he murmured.
“Central heterochromia,” she replied. “They’re called sunflower eyes. I would’ve been burned at the stake three hundred years ago.”
“Yay for progress.”
Evren maneuvered them around the island, and pulled her further into his embrace.
Hesitantly, she lowered her head to his chest. This was a profound moment because she basically told him she now trusted him.
Closing his eyes, the world faded away. This is nice , he thought. I could get used to this .
They danced until the song ended, then slowly, they pulled apart. She looked at him with luminous eyes, and his soul recognized the unbelievable chemistry pulling him toward her. He glanced at her lips, wanting to taste them again. So, he did just that.
All coherent thought fled as his mouth settled on hers.
At first, a mere caress that had sparks shooting up and down his spine.
His tongue grazed the seam of her mouth seeking entrance, and with a moan, she gave him access.
Almost immediately, he knew this wasn’t an ordinary kiss.
This was something far different from all the kisses in his past. Sexy.
Sensual. Damn fucking addictive. His heart thundered in his chest and fire zinged through his blood.
Wrapping his arm around her lower back, he pulled her close and wrapped a hand around the back of her neck.
When they broke for air, he leaned his forehead against hers as he willed his ardor to cool. Fucking hell, this woman was getting deeper and deeper under his skin.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“Understatement of the year.”
She giggled, which caused her eyes to widen with shock. As if she never giggled before. Maybe she hadn’t, if one believed her story, and he believed that she believed.
“Um, dinner is ready,” she said quietly.
He pulled back and stared down at her. “All right.”
She bent her head, nodding, leading the way to the dining room. Two plates waited, with what smelled like curry. He stood behind her chair and pulled it out, waiting for her to sit so he could help push it in, but Lowen blinked up at him, clearly confused.
“Come,” he encouraged. “Sit.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding startled. “But ... but ... you’re supposed to sit first.”
“Is that what your not-husband told you? Made you sit last?”
“Among other things,” she replied sourly.
“Well, he’s not here and you never have to worry about him ever again. So, please. Sit. Enjoy this amazing food you’ve created.”
Slowly, she sat and he slid her forward to the table.
When he joined her, they ate in comfortable companionship.
When they were done, he gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen.
Lowen hovered and kept throwing suspicious glances his way, waiting for him to snap at her to clean up—but he didn’t.
Once the dishwasher was on, he held out his hand and she glanced at it before taking hold.
He smiled at her and led her back into the living room, where they relaxed on the couch.
He turned his body to face her. “Have any questions about tomorrow?”
“No,” she replied. “I’ve never been to Canada. I’ve never been anywhere. It’s going to be weird leaving Nevada.”
“Not even on your honeymoon?”
She gave a derisive snort. “Scias wasn’t really into vacations. Besides, I never wanted to be secluded with him.”
Something flashed over her face, and he hazarded a guess it was a poisonous memory that had scarred her soul.
“What happened?”
Lowen lowered her head, trying to hide. He used his finger to lift her chin. Tears welled up in her beautiful eyes.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” he murmured.
“The pain he inflicted will haunt me for the rest of my life,” she said, taking a deep breath as she blinked the tears away. “My body might not have the scars anymore, but my mind still does.”
He wanted to erase the sudden pall over their evening.
“Jeremiah bought Blackmeadow so we’d never be without a home again,” he told her.
“He would go to casinos and use his eidetic memory to hustle them. Then he’d take his winnings and bet on himself as he fought in the underground ring.
A few years later, he bought his first casino.
A dump off The Strip, and within a year turned it into a thriving business.
Then he sold it and used the lucrative deal to acquire the Monarque which was run-down at the time.
Great location but in serious need of revamping. ”
“He sounds like a smart man.”
“He is,” Evren said. “He’s self-taught and worked hard to get to the top, and I’m proud to call him my brother.”
She smiled. “What about you?”
“What about me what?”
“What’s your part in this story?”
“I did my damnedest to make sure he and Aera didn’t kill each other.” He leaned a little closer. “You know, I’d never admit this to the others, but I kind of miss all of us in one city. Aera’s a dickhead, but he’s still my brother.”
She reached out and took hold of his hand. “I envy the closeness you have with them. Your family.”
He cocked his head. “Remember what Jeremiah said. You’re part of this family now.”