Chapter Thirty-Six
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Henri
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“WE CAN’T ACCEPT THIS...can we?” I fisted the key to the gatehouse, hesitating to cross the threshold.
Ily stood beside me. Her cheeks pink from the cold walk across the frozen meadow.
Somehow, in the mayhem of killing and healing, we’d missed the new year and slipped quickly into March.
I’d turned thirty while keeping vigil over Ily in a coma. She’d shared my birthday in her sleep. Just like in the dungeons when she’d admitted we shared the same day, my mind couldn’t comprehend the connections.
How had I found this woman?
How had I been lucky enough to love this woman?
How many years would it take for me to look at her with peace instead of heart-jolting shock that she was mine?
“I don’t know...he’s your brother.” Ily stepped past me, entering the gatehouse. “You tell me.”
Yesterday, we’d found Peter alive. Q had arranged for a doctor to travel with him to England, and we’d waved him off on a private plane with a car waiting at the other end to take him home.
I missed the bastard, but knowing he was alive? Goddammit, I didn’t think I could survive another surprise like that.
But then we’d returned to my brother’s estate, and he’d sat us down at the dining table.
He and Tess acted squirrely and secretive before he almost choked on an offer I never expected. “Stay.”
Stay?
I’d rocked back in my chair all while Ily shared a smile with Tess. “Oh, we couldn’t. This is your home.”
“It is.” Q sent a key spinning on the tabletop. “And this opens the door to yours.”
I’d slapped my hand on the key to stop it spinning, a mix of suspicion and frustration in my blood.
Q had merely stood, taken his wife’s hand, and pointed through the patio doors. “Go north. You’ll find the gatehouse. It’s yours if you want it.”
And then they’d left.
And now, we were here.
“Oh wow,” Ily whispered, stepping through the quaint foyer with flagstones leading to the living room to the left.
Rough beams cut the whitewashed ceiling.
Sprigs of dried flowers hung in bunches by the window.
A fire crackled in a huge open fireplace.
The cream couch looked stuffed with fucking clouds and the coffee table was an old wagon wheel with a glass top.
The entire thing reeked of country wealth.
Old wealth. Obscene wealth. But cosy and imperfect at the same time.
I followed Ily into the kitchen. Grey glossy cabinetry with a huge farmhouse sink.
A huge chunk of wood for the bench with a low-ceilinged dining room in a nook surrounded by windows.
The floorplan led us to the next room. Another sitting area with comfy couches and shelves full of books.
Another room spilled out to the left, where two desks sat on either side of each other as if a husband and wife ran their own company from these very walls.
Ily’s red scarf flicked around the corner as she headed into a den complete with a TV projector, bean bags, and soft side lights.
I didn’t say a word as she climbed the narrow ancient staircase to the second level.
Up here, the ceilings were even lower but somehow seemed to cradle with comfort instead of squash with claustrophobia.
A massive bathroom with a clawfoot bath and modern steam shower glittered with silver and bronze tiles.
Three bedrooms with matching cosy beds and thick velvet curtains dripping on the floor.
She let out a soft cry as she stepped into a giant master bedroom with bifolds leading to a quaint roof deck full of potted plants. The view gave a sprawling vista of willow trees, meadows, and Q’s chateau twinkling in the distance.
The ensuite housed a sauna along with a bath big enough for two. A spa waited on the roof deck. And the California-king-sized bed positively drowned in lacy white pillows.
“It feels so comfortable, yet...I know it’s worth a fortune,” Ily murmured, hugging herself in the centre of the bedroom.
“Standing in a simple smaller home has just shown me just how on edge I’ve been feeling in your brother’s mansion.
” She ducked her head. “Don’t get me wrong.
I’m ever so grateful he gave us a room, and his home is beautiful, but... ”
“It reminded you too much of Victor’s?”
She nodded. “So much wealth. So much decadence. I...I don’t need it. I don’t really want it. I just want to be...us.”
Going to her, I cupped her cheeks. “Us is good.”
She sighed as I kissed her softly.
Pulling away, I said, “I’m the same. I’ve been itching to leave and find a small place where it’s just the two of us. I’m dying to fade into obscurity. To be normal and...happy.”
“Do you think you could be happy here?” she asked, kissing me before dropping from her tiptoes.
“Don’t you want to go back to England? Be close to your brother and parents?”
Her eyes churned with emotion but slowly she shook her head. “Krish doesn’t need me anymore, and...my place is with you.”
“We could always try living here. See how it goes? We can always move back to England if it doesn’t feel right?” I raked a hand through my hair. “But we’d have to pay rent. And I need to get a job. I’m not taking any more of his damn money.”
“I agree.” She nodded. “I want to work too.” She shuddered with a soft laugh. “Gemstones have always been my passion, but...I don’t think I could look at another one. I dunno. Maybe I’ll go back to school and study something else, rather than be a gemmologist.”
I shuddered at the very mention of gems.
Rubies and emeralds, sapphires and diamonds.
Speaking of diamonds.
My heart kicked as Ily unravelled her scarf and tossed it on the bed.
“Want to christen this place?” She spun to face me with a smile. “Make it our own?”
A long strand of red wool tumbled from the scarf.
It coiled on the cream carpet.
Memories of us huddled under our blankets on that awful island filled my mind. Snatched moments safe from the cameras, terrifying seconds full of whispers when there was no safe place to talk.
“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want a diamond. This place has cured me of my love of gems. A simple string knotted into a circle would be enough.”
My heart thundered.
I ducked to snatch the wool off the carpet.
With my blood racing and every droplet of love mingling with nervous hope, I dropped to one knee and held up the woollen strand. “It’s not a string, but...what I said to you that night beneath our blankets is still true.”
Ily froze, her hands flying to her mouth.
“The moment I met you, I put an invisible ring on your finger. It’s there, Ily.
It’s always been there.” I licked my lips, gathering courage to put my entire soul on the line.
“You freed me that day. We might’ve spent six months in captivity, but...
you freed my heart and taught me how to love instead of hate.
You taught me that I wasn’t something to be feared or loathed.
You gave me something I never thought I’d earn. ”
Holding out my hand, I whispered, “Come here, little nightmare.”
Ever so slowly, she padded toward me. Tears sparkled like crystals on her cheeks. The monster inside me sprang awake to drink.
I tried to lock that part of myself away.
I tried to stay human as she placed her hand in mine.
I trembled with so many things. Light and dark.
Love and lust as I looped the strand around her wedding finger and tied a bow.
“A part of me doesn’t want to ask you this question because I don’t want to give you the chance to say no.
But...I will never do anything without your permission again, and so.
Ilyana Sharma...” I cleared my throat as pressure built around my ribcage.
“You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen what I’m capable of and what sort of life I can offer you.
You know I’m not perfect, and you know I would slaughter the world for you.
I can’t promise I will never piss you off, and I can’t say that I’ll be the best husband, but what I will be is the best that I’m capable of.
” Lowering my voice, I whispered, “I might be a monster, but you hold my leash, Ily. I wear your collar. Just yours. I will kneel at your feet all while fighting your—”
“Yes,” she breathed around her tears.
I chuckled. “I haven’t asked you yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. My answer is—”
“Give me a sec, woman. Jesus.” I pressed a kiss on the crimson bow tied tightly around her finger. There was so much I wanted to say. So much I needed her to know but...she knew. She knew because we shared the same soul. The same heart and lifetime and destiny.
“Marry me,” I whispered against the string. “Marry me and spend your life with me.”
Snatching her hand from mine, she threw herself at me. Decorating my face with kisses, she giggled.
A sound so young and innocent.
A sound I would spend every day of my mortal existence earning again and again.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Yanking her off her feet, I pressed her carefully onto her back. The carpet cushioned her as I lay on top of her.
Sliding my fingers through her hair, I held her prone.
Our eyes searched each other’s.
She looked at my mouth and arched her hips.
I rocked against her, revealing how hard I was. How much the darkness inside me snarled and nipped, utterly mad with possessiveness. “You know this means you’re mine now. In every caveman barbarian way.”
She grinned. “If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working.” Moaning, she bit her bottom lip. “I keep telling you. I want to be consumed by you. I want—”
“Me to hurt you.”
She stilled, lust shattering over her gorgeous face. “Only when I ask and only ever in private.”
I sighed and nuzzled my nose with hers. “Ily...”
“Listen to me, Hen.” Her voice turned harsh with seriousness. “I love you—”
“I love you too. That’s why—”