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I just hope it doesn’t end with a bullet in Maury’s head.
I glance at my lady, but only briefly. I have to keep my attention on the men. Even concussed and disoriented and beaten, they could still try something.
Still, Kimberly looks gorgeous in her prom dress, her hair ruffled around her shoulders, her cheeks a fierce red. She glances at me, biting her lip, and then smiles.
The smile travels deep inside of me, spreading warmly.
Looking at her, I know everything is going to work out just fine.
Chapter Nineteen
Kimberly
I wake with the sun shining on my face.
For a few groggy moments, I’m still trapped in the dream. I remember the hotel room and the way Kris and I became fused together in lust, rocking together at the end, melting into each other.
Then the dream turns into a nightmare when I hear Aaron’s voice.
In the disordered clutter of my sleepy mind, I see Aaron explode, reveal a secret gun, and shoot Kris.
But no, that’s not what happened.
Kris kept them pinned down until a bunch of Italian looking men in suits arrived, all with slicked back hair and glinting watches at their wrists. Some were older or younger than the others, but they all looked at Kris with unwavering loyalty flaring in their eyes.
After that, it was simple. They took the men to the police station. Aaron is facing fifteen years in prison and his accomplices – all hardened criminals – are facing life.
That was all two days ago.
We’ve tried to forget by falling into each other, hunkering down in Kris’ apartment. Everything’s sleek and minimalist here, a modern bachelor’s base camp. I can already envision a few feminine touches here and there.
I search for Kris when I get up.
I’ll find him in the gym, his naked torso drenched in sweat, his muscles firm against the giant chains that hang from his neck as he does dips. My body tingles just thinking about yesterday morning, the way he bent me over the weights bench and made me his.
But he’s not in the gym or his study. Maybe he’s gone into work. But he usually texts me.
Suddenly, my heart is fluttering.
Anxious thoughts try to invade my mind.
In the aftermath of the hotel room, I begged Jackie to take Kris’ offer of private security. She only agreed after I almost broke down into tears. But nothing bad has happened. The men are facing a long time in prison.
Kris had to exile Maury. It was the only way to stop some old-schoolers from killing him when they learned about what he’d done. He’s alive, free to forge his own path, but this city is off-limits to him. The truth is, I’m glad.
We’re safe.
But where the heck is Kris?
I return to the living room. It’s all sleek obsidian marble flooring and hard modern edges. The furniture is sleek and steel-silver. The coffee table is glass so well-polished it looks invisible, floating between the suspended charcoal legs.
There’s a folded-up piece of paper on the table.
I snap it up, unfolding it.
My Kimberly, he writes, his handwriting elegant and looping.
I’m not at all surprised. He might have the hands of a giant, but he sure knows how to use them.
Your chariot awaits you when you’re ready. Don’t keep me waiting too long. I ache for you. Always, I hunger for you. Wear something pretty … so anything, Kimberly, wear whatever the hell you want. Because you’re always beautiful. Yours, with love, Kristian XX
My heart flutters when I read with love.
We haven’t said that yet.
But I feel it.
I ache for him just as badly as he aches for me.
I bite my lip, staring down at the note.
Could this be it?
I pace toward the bedroom, heart thudding.
I shrug the faux-fur jacket around my shoulders, shivering against the late winter wind. There’s a hint of spring in the air, though, to accompany the first real sunlight.
I let out wild giggles when I see two horses sitting in the executive parking space of Kris’ apartment building. The carriage is sleek white, bridal-white, I can’t help but think.
Kris appears from beside it, looking suave in a steel-gray suit, his eyes flaring when he sees me.
He strides over, and I rush to meet him. I don’t care about the pedestrians walking all around us, huffing as they rush to avoid my path.
I just need to be with my man.
I throw myself at him and hug him close, squeezing hard, as though if I let him go he’ll disappear.
I cough back a sob, and that’s when I realize that this is all spinning me out of control.
The break-in—waking up to find Kris gone—and now this …
What if I’m wrong?
“Kimberly, what is it?” he growls in my ear, clutching me close to him, easily holding me off the ground.
“I’m just, oh, Kris, I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin this.”
