Chapter 21
Ingrid
January
We stay in London for almost a week. Christmas came the next day, but I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate.
Thankfully, that didn’t seem to bother Darius.
I guess I’m not really surprised. When you live the kind of life we’ve both lived, holidays don’t always hold great memories.
Skipping them is often the sanest choice.
Darius works almost nonstop. I keep to myself and stay busy—walking, exploring, trying to breathe again.
The gray skies and damp chill help me focus on some much needed soul-searching.
A million thoughts swirl through my head.
Shit I need to sort through before we leave for Switzerland or they’ll eat me alive.
Something inside me shifts. I’m ready for more.
For something real, next level. Over the past few months, even with only stolen moments, we’ve grown closer than I ever imagined.
My feelings for Darius run deep; our bond is strong.
I’m pretty sure I love him. But confessing the truth feels like stepping off a cliff without knowing if he’ll catch me.
I’ve been pacing our suite for over an hour. I can’t sit still or silence my racing thoughts.
The door bursts open. Darius crosses the room in three strides, lifts me off my feet, and spins me like he owns the air.
“Time to go, cupcake. I know it’s late, but it’s best this way.”
I don’t argue with him. It’s not like I unpacked. I’ve been living out of my suitcase since our arrival. So, all I have to do is zip it up and follow him out the door.
We land in Switzerland after midnight, the cloak of the night keeping our arrival hidden.
Darius claims it’s better this way, a chance to breathe before facing his family who will pounce on us like an unpredictable storm.
He wants space and quiet time. Just us. By the time we reach his home, the exhaustion from all the traveling hits us.
We don’t talk. We don’t unpack. We simply collapse into his bed, too tired to do anything more than fall asleep in each other’s arms.
I’ll admit, doubt creeps in. Which is another reason I’ve kept my feelings to myself. He’s barely touched me since kidnapping me from my parents’ home. Maybe he’s having second thoughts about us, and I can’t blame him. After the shit storm he walked in on, he has every right to reevaluate.
Waking up in an empty bed only adds to those doubts. The silence suffocating. I brace myself to face whatever comes next. Better now than later.
Right as I’m about to crawl out of bed, the bedroom door creaks open. Darius enters, carrying a tray with two cups, a carafe of what I assume is coffee, and a covered plate. He’s shirtless, the loungers he slipped on last night hanging low on his hips.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” I sit up, tugging the covers over my bare legs as goosebumps rise on my skin.
Last night, he tossed me a large t-shirt to sleep in since our bags hadn’t been brought up yet. By the time he returned from his security check—a routine I’ve grown used to—I’d already changed and crawled into bed and was almost asleep.
With a sigh, he sets the tray down; the soft clink of the glass fills the quiet.
Then, he collapses onto the spot next to me, lays his head in my lap, an unreadable gleam in his silver eyes.
There’s a dare behind them, telling me to be brave and ask him what he’s thinking.
Unable to resist touching him, I run my fingers through his tangled, messy hair.
It’s soft and sleep-warm, grounding me in this new, fragile rhythm we’re building.
“I’m glad you’re here.” His grin wicked as he toys with a lock of my hair, his touch sending heat rushing through me. “I thought we’d have breakfast in bed. But screw that, I can think of something far sweeter to feast on.”
Heat blooms across my cheeks, my heart skipping as I whisper, “And what’s that?”
He waggles his brows, flips us in one quick move, and suddenly I’m flat on my back with him hovering over me. “Where do I begin?”
“Darius.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a secret slipping past my lips, all that previous doubt gone in a flash.
“I want to eat you alive, cupcake. Every damn inch. Say yes.” He slides a hand beneath the covers, the touch feather-light yet electrifying against my bare thigh.
His silver eyes darken as they roam my body, unwrapping me, before they climb back up.
“I’ve thought about this since you drove me mad on that video chat. Now I want the real you. All of you.”
I swallow hard, remembering how sensual that moment was. “Okay.”
The blanket disappears in one solid yank, and I squeal.
“I’ll take my time, be as gentle as I can.” He grabs my legs and moves me where he wants. “But Ingrid, I’ve dreamed of this moment for months. I don’t know if I can hold back.”
Sitting up, I grab the hem of my t-shirt and yank it over my head. “Don’t know that I want you to.”
He crashes into me, hands on my face, mouth devouring mine. His lips are soft but demanding. The kiss is fire, raw, and tender all at once. It’s a brand on my soul. Scorching through me until all I can hear in my head is the truth I can’t say out loud: I love him.
Once the kiss ends, he gently lays me back. Those delicious lips trail down my throat to the swell of my breasts.
I’ve had hands on me before—boys fumbling, impatient—but nothing like this. He’s worshipping, lavishing my skin with his lips, tongue, and teeth until my body arches into him. My core is on fire, throbbing so intensely it causes me to squirm.
“Getting a little needy, cupcake?” His chuckle vibrates against me as he pinches my nipple, teasing it to a hard peak. “Patience. Let me take care of you.”
I watch as he draws the tip into his mouth and sucks hard. It sends a current through my body, and I swear I shatter. Every nerve on alert, begging for more.
“Oh god.”
“Darius is the name you’re searching for. I’m not a god, just a man, starving, and you’re the one I crave.” He bites down and then licks his way down my stomach, dragging his tongue over my navel. “Even this little nub is sexy.”
I’ve always hated my half-in, half-out navel—until now.
The sensitive nerve sparks under his touch, making me shiver as he toys with it.
His fingers tease lower, building me higher and higher until I’m trembling with need.
He lets his tongue swipe between the waistband of my knickers next.
Destroys me. I’m a withering mess by the time he’s worked his way back up to my lips; my body is so limp I almost miss his next words.
“We’d better stop. I don’t have any condoms in the house.
It’s been a few years since I’ve been home.
” His thumb grazes my cheek as he brushes my hair back.
“You looked too much like a gift in my bed. I couldn’t resist a taste.
Call this round one. We’ll eat breakfast first, then I’ll drag you around my country. Tonight… we’ll finish what I started.”
Disappointment flickers through me, though I try to ignore it.
He distracts me with coffee, pouring two mugs like he’s done it a hundred times. Offers me bites of the delicious treats he brought up until I can’t help but smile. Once we’re finished, he nudges me toward the bathroom.
“Go on. You first. I’ll clean up when you’re done.”
I don’t argue. Showering together would only tempt fate, dragging us right back to where he stopped. And since I’m not on birth control, that’s a risk I can’t afford. My life already feels like it’s balancing on a knife’s edge. I can’t let an unexpected pregnancy tip it over.
After digging through my suitcase for clothes and setting them aside, I turn around and flip on the water to warm it up while I brush my teeth. Steam curls around me as I step beneath the spray and close my eyes, letting the shower help calm my body.
The peace doesn’t last long. A loud bang rattles the silence, followed by another.
My gut flares with warning fire, dread licking up my spine.
“Darius?” I shout.
When he doesn’t respond, I grab the fluffy green robe hanging behind the door and slip it on. It’s way too big, but it will do for now. Securing it tightly around my body, I try one more time. “Darius?”
An ominous chill sweeps through me, urging me into motion. Something is terribly wrong. I throw open the bathroom door and rush out of his bedroom and down the stairs.
The slick wood catches my wet feet, and I stumble, nearly falling.
Then freeze.
Darius lies crumbled by the door in a widening pool of blood. The coppery tang of it saturates the air, thick and suffocating.
“Darius!” A scream rips from my throat. “No! This is not happening.” The rough floor scrapes against my skin as I collapse, my hands frantically trying to stop the bleeding.
A pair of large hands clamp down on my shoulders, yanking me away as his men surround him, their murmuring a low growl. “Let them help him. They know what they’re doing.”
“You have to stop it! Please! Don’t let him die!” With a choked sob, I yell, my face wet with tears. “Please, don’t let him die!”
“That’s the plan, miss. Help will be here soon. Were you shot too?” The man spins me around and tries to check, his eyes scanning over me.
When he reaches for the robe, I tighten it around me. “No. I was in the shower. There were two loud bangs.”
I cannot take my eyes off Darius’s motionless body, lying there unresponsive.
“Oh, my god. Please, you have to save him. You have to. I haven’t even told him I love him yet. He can’t die. Please!”
I couldn’t tell you how I got upstairs and dressed. The last clear image I have is of the paramedics rushing Darius onto their bus, lights flashing as they loaded him and then sped away. After that, it’s like the world fractured. It’s as if I’m in a fog so thick I can’t even breathe.
A woman escorts me to a car and ushers me inside. In seconds we’re speeding off to the hospital. I dig my phone out of my pocket to call the one person I know will understand.
“He’s been shot. He can’t die, Winifred. He can’t.”
“Who?” My best friend’s voice cracks, sharp with worry.
“Darius. I haven’t even told him I love him. He can’t die.” I stare out the window, remembering the day my brother died. “I can’t lose him, too. I can’t.”