Epilogue
Santiago
We returned to Spain six months after our little Mia was born.
Beatrix wanted to bring her up in Spain, at the Veracruz estate, and I agreed.
I was apprehensive at first, since being at the hacienda brought back some bad memories, but I soon realised that my fears were groundless.
With Beatrix and Mia, it felt new and different, and after we refurbished the whole place it began to feel like home.
I had a long talk with my mother, telling her that she had to accept the situation with Beatrix and that both she and I would like her to have a relationship with her granddaughter.
After that it was like a switch had flipped.
She started doing much better, and at last she was well enough to come home, choosing to live in my house in Paris.
She’s gradually coming around to the idea of Beatrix being my wife.
but she very much loves her little granddaughter, and has let us know that she’ll be coming to Spain for a visit at Christmas.
Now I’m lying in our bed in the hacienda, waiting for my wife to join me after putting Mia down to sleep. I’m hungry for her as I always am…that hasn’t changed. She’s a conundrum that is never solved, a puzzle that continues to fascinate the more I learn about her.
I don’t know what kind of life we could have had if my father hadn’t married her, but if he hadn’t Mia wouldn’t have been born and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I wouldn’t change how Beatrix came to me either.
She steps into the bedroom, still wearing a robe, and I raise a brow. ‘It’s appalling you should come to my bed still fully dressed,’ I say.
‘I’m not fully dressed. I’m wearing a robe.’
‘As I said. Fully dressed.’
She laughs, and pulls something out of the pocket of said robe, before coming down onto the bed next to me. Then she lifts her hand and I see she’s holding a long plastic stick. There are two pink lines in the window.
My heart catches. ‘Bea,’ I murmur. ‘Oh, Bea.’
Her eyes are a lake in full sunlight and she laughs again as I pull her hard against me, and kiss her senseless.
I was right to think that love was a fundamental truth.
It is. And it’s endless, bottomless. You can never have too much and it never runs out. It’s always there, a well that never runs dry.
Keep reading an excerpt from VENGEANCE TO BABY VOWS by Maya Blake.