Chapter 24
Darius
Alow, steady beep pierces through the darkness as I wake, the air thick with the smell of antiseptic.
Pain explodes through me, as if a semi-truck hit me or someone tossed off a skyscraper.
Every nerve screams, my body trembling from the inside out.
Even the act of groaning feels like it might split me in half.
Don’t care. I need to get up and find Ingrid.
“Hey, stop trying to move. You’re going to hurt yourself.” That voice—hers. Sweet, but firm. Her face appears, soft and worried, above me. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.”
The face of an angel looks down at me, and my world stills. Her face is blotchy, eyes red.
I hate it.
“You’ve been crying. Didn’t they tell you that I was okay?” My throat is bone-dry, making it hard to form words. Smacking my lips together several times, I frown. “I need a drink. Got any bourbon handy?”
“They told me.” A tear runs down her cheek, but she ignores it. “Said you were stubborn. Bragging about being superhuman and swearing you could finish what we started yesterday.” Lifting her hand, she wipes the wetness away. “Is that all you think about?”
“Yes.” Grunting, I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog. “My dick’s still hard from stopping mid-stride. It’s done waiting to claim you.”
Maybe not, but it would be if I weren’t so fucking weak I can barely lift a finger.
She shakes her head, but I don’t miss her smile—God, it’s beautiful.
“Plus, I’ve never made love to a woman before. I was looking forward to doing that.” It takes some effort, but I lift my hand and close it around hers. “Did he give you what I asked him to?”
She reaches behind her and shows me an envelope. “I have this. What is this?”
“Open it.” I let go of her hand and motion toward the sealed envelope. “I think you may like it.”
Squinting, she eyes me suspiciously. “How long have you had this?”
“Just open the damn thing before I pass out again.” I blink sluggishly, determined to stay awake long enough to get through this. “I’ve had it for a while now.”
Taking a deep breath, she opens it, slipping her hand inside. When she pulls it free, the ring glimmers between her trembling fingers. I bought it when I was in South Africa.
I motion for her to give it to me. When she does, I grab her left ring finger and slip it on. It looks perfect, like it was made for her—because it was.
“I love you, Ingrid. When I get out of here, I’m going to marry you.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it, then smirk. “Actually, when I get out of here, I’m fucking you for about a week solid. Then once we’ve recovered, I’m marrying you.”
Leaning forward, she cups my face gently. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” A slow, lovely grin spreads across her face, crinkling the corners of her eyes.
“Kiss me,” I rasp. “And no. I don’t need to ask when I know you’ll say yes.”
With a roll of her eyes, she speaks the most beautiful words I’ll ever hear. “I love you, even though you’re an arrogant arse.” Then her lips take mine, way too gently, but I’ll make up for that later.
I must have passed out again. The next time I wake, I hear people mumbling, arguing as quietly as they can.
I recognize both immediately.
Not surprised. My mother doesn’t bend. Her need for control is insatiable. She storms in, a whirlwind of ambition, that fills every room she enters.
But I believe she may have met her match. My sweet little cupcake isn’t budging. She stands firm, unshakable, and the fire within her makes my love for her burn brighter.
“I’m not leaving. I don’t care what you say,” Ingrid states matter-of-factly.
“You aren’t family. You can’t be in here. And you will never be family, you can’t be. You aren’t from the right bloodline,” my mother declares crossly, meaning every word, although she’s wrong.
“Shut up!” I open my mouth to shout, but the words catch in my throat. “She’s my soon-to-be wife. She stays.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” my mother scolds, reaching down to pat my cheek the way she did when I was a boy. “You’re delusional.”
“No, Mother. You’re the delusional one.” I swat her hand away. “Ingrid is my fiancée. Accept her or leave. Simple as that.”
“Calm down.” Ingrid slips in on my other side, her touch featherlight on my face, her eyes full of quiet devotion. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
I don’t slap hers away, and my mother notices. Her glare could cut glass, but she keeps her mouth shut.
“I don’t need you getting all worked up.” Ingrid’s tone is soft, but the fire in her eyes burns fiercely as she locks onto my mother. “The doctors will make us leave if you do. Is that what you want?”
I shake my head, the world swimming around me in a dizzying blur. Damn.
“Ingrid, this is my mother, the Duchess Geneva Falcon Blomquist. Mother, this is the love of my life, Ingrid Lennox. Be nice to her. One day she will give you grandchildren, maybe even a grandson if you’re lucky.”
That shuts her up. For now, at least. I know she’ll try to convince me to come back to her way of thinking. It won’t work. She’ll soon accept that, and if she doesn’t, then it will be her loss, not mine.
Ten days later, I walk—or rather roll—out of the hospital beside Ingrid. Instructed to take it easy. No strenuous activity for the next six weeks. He changed it when he realized I was a man who didn’t know what taking it easy meant. That includes sex.
Fuck that shit.
The second I’m alone with my girl, I’m stripping her naked. Burying myself so deep inside of her, she’ll wonder how she survived without me.
We’re loaded into the back of an SUV. One of my men is driving. If I’m stuck being chauffeured around like an invalid, I’ll make damn sure the ride is worth it.
Grabbing Ingrid’s hand, I tug, encouraging her to play. “Get over here.”
“No. You will follow my rules, or I’ll call your mother.” She lifts her eyebrows, displaying her dominance, and damn if my cock doesn’t notice.
“I can’t fuck you with my mother hovering,” I grumble, reaching down to adjust myself.
“There will be no fucking until the doctor clears you,” she says with a very steely glare.
Her eyes drop, catching me adjusting my eager beast, and she rolls them skyward.
“If you don’t follow the rules, I’ll go stay with your sister.
She’s offered to house me should I be forced to call the duchess.
Said it would be safer that way. No one would end up in the hospital or prison. ”
“My mother will never leave if I let her inside my house.” I’m not even kidding. She’ll send me to an early grave for sure.
“Then I guess you’d better be on your best behavior and not give me an ounce of trouble.” She smirks, like she already won.
I let her think she’s in control, but I know better. One kiss—her weakness—and she’ll surrender, the fight melting out of her.
When we arrive at the house, I start my seduction. I tug her up the stairs behind me, determined to get what I want. If I had the strength, I’d toss her on the bed, but damn, I’m exhausted from that short-lived trip.
Instead, I drop onto my bed and pat it. “I need a nap first.”
Ingrid gets a blanket, drapes it over us, and then snuggles up beside me. “What’s the matter? Are you not superhuman after all?”
As I pull her close and into the circle of my arms, I gently press my lips to hers. Damn, she tastes good.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be fine. I love you.”
“Me too,” Ingrid whispers, and we stare at each other until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.