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I’ve never wanted him to hurt me more than I do right now. I want to feel all that anger overwhelm mine as he tears me apart from the inside out, for his hands to hold me so tight that it taints my skin.
“I could’ve lost you, Georgina,” he finally murmurs, looking down at me. “You could’ve been taken away from me, and I would never have the chance to love you properly. How you deserve. How I should’ve loved you from the beginning. From that fucking first kiss I took from you when you fell asleep next to me.”
I must look confused because he moves to stand in front of me again, hands combing my hair away from my face as the bathroom begins to cloud with the steam from the shower. His touch alone is enough to send my heart into overdrive, a thrum so strong that it makes it impossible to catch my breath as he cups one side of my face and presses the other to his bare chest. The condensation makes his skin sticky and so warm that his leather-and-hay scent becomes as potent as when we’re tangled together.
Lifting my chin up, he looks down at me with something like awe and a sheepish quirk of his lips. “You were mending your shoes, and you fell asleep with your head on my shoulder…it felt so fucking good to have you that close, and I knew that if I looked at you that I’d do something stupid. Still—” Nudging the tip of my nose with his, he traces up to my forehead and presses a hard kiss to it, so hard that it’s impossible not to feel it sink into my flesh, and as it works its way through me, I shiver. “I couldn’t resist it. I couldn’t resist you. I kissed you right here,” he breathes, lowering my chin so he can press a kiss to the top of my head. “And you smiled while Arabella was crying so hard in the room above us that all I could think was that I never wanted you to feel that pain. I never wanted you to cry those tears. All I wanted to do was make sure that you never had the light and joy taken out of you.”
“I didn’t have joy until you.” When I peer up at him, he swallows, thumb stroking my cheek as he lowers to my height and touches his lips to mine.
It’s not a kiss, just a connection—somewhat sweet, but mostly, there’s an edge of desperation in the way he inhales deeply and sighs into my skin. His hold tightens. My heart pounds harder and harder. The tug of his body on mine…the pull of his soul on mine…I can’t bear it. It’s almost too much.
Then he kisses me, and I can’t stop the shudder that his affection rakes through me. Pure unadulterated affection that ebbs from him to me and warms me so deep that my knees threaten to buckle at the sensation. I’m not sure what’s happening, but something’s changed between us. The urgency that’s always whirred around us is dulled to a savouring need. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt even with him. I want to delve into every nook and cranny of his being, to wrap his darkness around me so that nothing and no one will ever take me away from him.
“I owe him,” he blusters, pulling back, watching me as I open my eyes. “I owe Casper for keeping you alive. He didn’t just save your life, he saved mine too. So, I understand that you’re hurting, but he did the right thing.”
All I can do is nod even though the grief inside me pangs with guilt. And while I’m still allowing everything he’s said to sink in, Freddie lowers me to the ground gently. He’s always so gentle when it comes to my feet.
“I’m going to clean you up now, Swan,” he tells me, walking me into the warm shower before he takes off his boxers and follows me under the spray.
The closeness of our naked bodies makes me sigh as my back presses to the wall, and he runs his fingers through my hair to help the water permeate through it. Expert fingers massage my scalp, and slowly all the stress and turmoil melts away, sluicing through my body to my feet and running down the drain.
“Once we’re done in here, I’m going to dress you, and after, I’m going to feed you. I’m going to take care of you in the way I know how, and you’re going to let me because you’re mine.”
And he is mine. My lord, my saviour, and my love. As cross and sad as I am, I’m relieved that I get to have this moment with him. That we get another chance to do things right. To love and be loved by one another. Even in the midst of all this bloodshed and strife, we get to have this. Us. I get to have his blissful chaos.
“You’re here. With me.”
Overwhelmed by the choked-up look he’s levelling me with, I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him so tight that my arms threaten to pop from their sockets. There’s something so incomprehensible about the joy that warms me at the same time as sorrow heavies my heart.
When he goes about washing my hair, I take in the concentration on his face, the low cluck of his tongue along with the gaping pout of his lips. He seems so boyish like this. Even with the sharp angles of his face and the scratchy stubble on his jaw, Freddie appears younger. Too young to give hugs that are that experienced with the need for bone-deep comfort.
“You give the best hugs.” The remark breezes from my lips as he finishes rinsing the suds from my hair.
There’s a quiet moment where he stiffens, as though he doesn’t know how to take the compliment. Then he nods and murmurs, “I know what it’s like to need that from someone you love…and I am someone you love, am I not?”
“You’re my love, Frederick Emsworth. My love, my lord, and my dark…wonderful…so fucking wonderful moth…with the best bear hugs.”
“Only for you, Swan.”
“Because you’re all mine.”
“All yours.”
Chapter 16
FREDDIE
The last week has gone by in a blur of looking at every detail of what happened, trying to find a reason or a warning that we missed. There’s nothing, and while to most people nothing would be a good sign, the only thing I can think is that we’re being fucking played. Again.
“How is she?” I ask Laura as she sighs into the line.
The answer isn’t forthcoming. While I wait for her reply, I look out over the small garden. The glass door wall would normally be open at this time of year, but along with the sunshine, it’s somewhat breezy. With Georgina having the bedroom window open to air the room while she rests, I don’t want to cause a draught.
“Laura.”
“I don’t know, Freddie. The only person she communicates with is Mum, so if you want to know what she meant with the whole Petrushka thing, she’s the one to ask.”
“Do you think she’s hiding the missing piece?” I’m out of ideas and patience. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know paying Lucy a visit would be a knife to Georgina’s already battered heart, I would be squeezing the answers from her myself.
