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“How dare you,” Rupert growled, face growing redder by the second.
“With all due respect, which you definitely don’t deserve, how dareyou? Do you have any idea what your obsessive need to control and manipulate your daughter is doing to her?” Without giving either of them time to answer, I continued. “No. You don’t. So let me clue you in. I’m taking Emma home with me, because she’s asked me to. I’m going to put a ring on her finger and drown her in love until the end of time.”
Behind me, Emma gasped. “Oh, Grant.”
Though it wasn’t the romantic proposal I would have planned, I glanced over my shoulder, then flashed her a wink and a smile.
“Are you seriously asking my permission to marry our daughter?” Rupert barked.
The happiness ricocheting through my system turned to anger.
“I’m not asking you shit,” I bit out. “I don’t need yourpermissionfor anything, and neither does Emma. She’s a grown woman capable of making decisions for herself. I guarantee if you two don’t stop forcing her down the life path you’ve created in your minds, and let her live the lifeshewants, you won’t be a part of hers anymore. You won’t get an invitation to our wedding. You won’t kiss, hold, or evenseethe mess of grandbabies I hope we get busy making soon.”
Ignoring the horror on Roslyn’s face and the tears welling in her eyes, I glanced over my shoulder again and sent Emma—gaping in proud awe—a tender smile.
“I know your daughter…your only child, would neverchooseto turn her back on you, or banish you from her life. It would break her huge, warm, and loving heart. But if crawling out from beneath your thumbs and breaking the chains you’re still trying to bind around her is the only way she can truly be happy, she will. So, yes… Iamtaking Emma with me so we can grow old together, while I drown her in unconditional love. What you two decide to do…well, that’s up to you.”
As Rupert and Roslyn gaped at me in stunned silence, I stood and turned, then extended my hand to Emma weeping on the couch. She stared up at me with raw, unadulterated love shimmering in her tear-filled eyes. Then, with a watery smile she slid her slender fingers into my palm.
Easing her onto her feet, I wrapped her in my arms and drew her flush against my chest. I moaned in delight as her soft, lush body melded against me and nuzzled my lips against her ear.
“What do you think about changing your identity one last time to…oh, I don’t know…maybe, Emma Holden?” I whispered.
She leaned back—face beaming like the sun—and nodded as a strangled sob-mixed-laugh rolled from her throat. “I think it sounds heavenly. Yes. Yes.”
“I do, too. Now, let’s get out of here,” I murmured, kissing the upturned corner of her mouth.
Tucking Emma close against my side to block her view of Wesley’s body, I weaved through the sea of cops and detectives and ushered her out the door.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Emma
Monday, August 21st
While the echo of air-hammers, saws, and other heavy sounds echoed from outside—courtesy of the construction crew building the new barn—I sat at the kitchen table, savoring another cup of coffee, thinking about all that had happened in the last few weeks.
After the doctor had checked me out and stitched me up at the hospital in New York, we’d stopped at Grant’s posh hotel suite. While he’d ordered room service and packed his suitcase—saving out a clean tee for me to wear—I’d taken a long, hot shower. Two hours later, we’d boarded a luxurious private jet Dalton had graciously arranged and flew home.
When we’d stepped inside the house, I’d dreaded going into the kitchen. I’d been afraid Wesley’s ghost would haunt me there forever. As if he’d sensed my reticence, Grant had simply threaded his fingers through mine, and together, we’d stepped into the room. Someone had cleaned up Mack’s blood and installed a fancy new back door. When I’d asked Grant who’d taken care of everything, he’d smiled, and said it had to have been Dalton.
Climbing into bed that night, and snuggling against Grant’s big, warm body, had been nothing short of nirvana. When I’d woken the next morning—after ten solid hours of blessed sleep—he’d been right there beside me. I’d realized not only how doggedly determined he’d been to find me but also grasped the depths of his unconditional love for me. Overwhelmed with emotion, I’d climbed on top of his rugged body, and while he held me…whispering loving reassurances—I sobbed like a baby.
Once I’d pulled myself together, he’d carried me to the shower, where he gently washed my hair and every inch of my battered body, then softly patted me dry. He’d dressed me, and fixed me breakfast, then we drove to the hospital to visit Mack.
When Mack and I clapped eyes on one another, we both nearly broke down. After a brief, gentle hug, we spent long minutes trying to ease our guilt and apologizing profusely to each other. Grant called a halt and reminded us Wesley was the one who bore the guilt. Then we sat for hours talking about Mack’s surgery and filling him in on everything that had gone down in New York.
A couple of hours after Grant and I had returned to the ranch, I received a massive bouquet of beautiful red roses. Grant stood beside me when I’d pulled out the card and read the words:We can change. We WILL change, because we love you with all our hearts, Mom and Dad. I’d turned and melted into his open arms, and broke down sobbing again.
I hadn’t cried since…at least, not tears.
I cried out in bliss nearly every night once the doctor—the one Grant insisted I see in Richardson—removed my stitches and told me I could resume my usual routine. Of course, there was nothingusualorroutineabout the ecstasy Grant loved dragging from my body. Just thinking of the spine-bending pleasure he’d drowned me in last night ignited a dull throb between my legs.
After I’d received the flowers, I’d called my parents to thank them, which sparked a long and difficult, but emotionally cleansing conversation. After we’d cleared the air and mended most of our bridges, my folks had been keeping me updated on the fallout from the horrific nightmare in New York.
I learned that after Grant and I had left Wesley’s apartment, it had turned into an even bigger circus when Ted and Lydia Fairchild arrived. According to my mother, after Ted finally confessed Wesley had somemental issues, the cops had to physically pry my father off Ted and restrain him. I also found out the ten million dollars Wesley had given to Congressman Swanson had been wired from an account Ted Fairchild had been hiding. Needless to say, the media mogul was quickly arrested and the merger was off.
The biggest shock for me was learning my parents were in counseling now. Not only were they learning how to love each other again but also learning there was more to life than money.
