“You trust me?”
“Implicitly.”
He’d done nothing to earn her trust—had in fact been part of the system that held her captive—and yet she gave it freely. Completely.
It humbled him in ways he couldn’t articulate.
“There’s more I need to tell you,” he said hoarsely. “About the security systems, the timing, the contingencies if something goes wrong?—”
“Later.” She freed one hand from Robbie and pressed it against his cheek, mirroring his touch from moments before. “First, tell me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“When this is over—assuming we make it—what do you want? Not what’s practical. Not what makes sense. What do you want?”
He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her palm against his skin.
“A home,” he said quietly. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere I can watch Robbie grow and teach him the things my father taught me. Somewhere I can wake up next to you every morning andfall asleep beside you every night.” He opened his eyes. “I want to be a father to your son. I want to give you more children, if you want them, or be content with the family we already have if you don’t. I want to grow old with you, Melissa. That’s what I want.”
Her eyes glistened. “That’s a lot of wanting.”
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, soft and sweet and full of promise. When she pulled back, there was a fierce determination in her gaze that reminded him of why he’d fallen for her in the first place.
“Then let’s make it happen,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
And he did.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Melissa couldn’t sleep.
She lay in the narrow bunk, Becsul’s arm heavy around her waist, his tail curled protectively around her thigh, and stared at the ceiling of her cell. Tomorrow. Everything would happen tomorrow. In approximately eighteen hours, she would either be free or dead.
The thought should have terrified her, and in many ways, it did. Her pulse quickened every time she ran through the plan in her mind, cataloguing all the ways it could go wrong. The supply shuttle might be delayed. The other women might not be able to move quickly enough. Naran might have changed the security protocols without Becsul’s knowledge. A hundred variables she couldn’t control, any one of which could end with her and Robbie back in this cell or worse.
And yet…
Becsul’s breath was warm against the back of her neck, slow and even in sleep. His skin was warm as well, almost fever-hot. Whenshe shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, his arm tightened reflexively, pulling her closer.
I trust him,she realized. The thought settled into her chest like something solid, something real.I actually trust him.
It was a strange feeling. She had spent most of her adult life relying on herself. Her parents had always been distant, more interested in their social standing than their daughter’s happiness. And after she’d rejected the marriage they had arranged for her they had become even more distant. Even at work, where she’d built a successful career helping couples conceive, she’d kept everyone at arm’s length. Friendly but not friends. Professional but not personal.
Becsul had dismantled all of that in a matter of days.
He’d held her son when she couldn’t put him down. He’d brought her clothes and books and fresh air. He’d sat with her through Robbie’s fever, his massive form gentle, his deep voice murmuring reassurances she hadn’t known she needed. He’d told her the truth even when it hurt, and made promises he clearly intended to keep.
He’s risking everything for us,she thought.His position, his safety, his entire future.
The weight of that sacrifice pressed against her chest. She’d done nothing to earn it. She’d been angry and suspicious and difficult, and he’d responded with patience and care and an unwavering determination to protect her.
This is what it feels like,she realized.To have someone in my corner. To not be alone.
She turned in his arms, slow and careful so as not to wake him. In sleep, his face lost some of its intensity. The hard line of his jaw softened. The tension around his eyes eased. He looked younger, somehow. More vulnerable.
She reached up and traced her fingertips along the ridge of his brow, marveling at the texture of his skin and the small nubs that brushed against her hand. His markings were darker around his eyes, the emerald green deepening to something almost black, and she found herself wondering if there were other patches of darkness elsewhere on his body.
