Page 131 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Catherine sighed. “If I can get out of the house, you mean.”

“He’ll never lock you away—he loves you too much to cage you in.”

Catherine frowned. “He did lock me in once.”

“Again, because he loves you.”

“For now.”

“Stop that.”

“Well—”

“Stop, Catty. Your father reacts to your lies or the things you hide from him, and he wouldn’t have to react at all if you simply didn’t lie or hide it from him in the first place.”

She didn’t respond.

Cross didn’t need her to.

The one thing he refused to do where Catherine was concerned, was lie to her, or even sugarcoat his opinion.

Catherine was tougher than she appeared to be. Far stronger than she wanted to admit she was. His girl didn’t need to be coddled. Her spine was still growing where her parents were concerned, but he had a feeling it was about to grow a fuck lot faster.

Shit, even Dante, as tightly wound, severe of a man as he was, could appreciate the beauty that came with loving a difficult woman. He’d married one, after all, even if Catrina Marcello put on a good mask for the crowd. Her exploits were infamous in their circles, and it wasn’t as though her husband could pretend that he didn’t know about them all.

Catherine wasn’t much different.

All too soon, the jet had taxied in, and the stewardess and pilot came out to see Cross and Catherine off the plane. He helped Catherine with her small carry-on, and grabbed his own to carry with the same hand. It was awkward, but he needed at least one free to keep a hold on his girl.

He always needed to have a hand on her in some way, even if it was just his palm against her lower back. It made him … grounded.

Steady.

The door to the jet was opened after the exit stairs had been locked in place at the side of the plane. Through the porthole windows, he could plainly see a number of people exiting the waiting vehicles, including Catherine’s parents, and his own father in another black sedan.

No one looked particularly pleased.

“Fuck,” Catherine muttered, seeing the same thing he was.

Cross pressed his hand to her lower back a little firmer. “Smile. Everything is always far better when you smile, Catherine.”

“Your charm is great in bed, but not so great when pissed off people are just a hundred feet away.”

He smirked, unable to help himself. “Well, we can do the charm in bed thing later, if you want. Come home, my girl, and I’ll make it happen.”

Catherine smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand just as the door to the jet was opened by the stewardess. Light streamed in through the gaping hole, blinding him momentarily. It didn’t matter, as Cross’s attention was back on Catherine, as though the people waiting for them outside simply didn’t exist in that moment.

He slid his hand up to the back of her neck, tangled his fingers into her hair, pulled her into his side, and kissed her forehead, lingering there like that for as long as he possibly could.

“I love you, Catherine.”

Catherine sighed, her lips curving into a sweet smile as she looked up at him. “Everyone saw that, Cross. It probably didn’t help our case.”

Like he fucking cared. They made it back alive, and in one piece. Kissing Catherine after all that was the very least he was going to do with her once he got the chance.

“They don’t matter.”

She did.