Page 63 of The Promise

She just stared up at him, unmoving. Roman remained still, too, staring right back.

“And not just this,” he told her, his fingers tightening around her own, “but blaming yourself, too. Stop all of it. I’m not blaming you for any of this. It’s not your fault. They know it, too.”

The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding came out in a rush, right alongside her words. “I just ... I can’t help that you’re the only one who makes me feel okay, but I won’t when you’re gone, Roman. I won’t be okay at all.”

“Don’t you see what you’re worth to me?”

The question was simple. Her perception was the problem. Knowing so and fixing it was two different things, however. Karine was still working on that.

“I want to,” she admitted. “I want to see it, but it’s hard when I’ve never been worth much to anyone before.”

Did he realize that?

She knew it was hard to understand.

He pulled her to himself, flush against him, and in that second, she melted. Every last hint of doubt she ever had regarding his intentions, about what he wanted from her—was gone. Just like that.

When he held her, nothing mattered.

She was right about him all along.

“I’m not a complete idiot, I know this isn’t easy, Karine,” Roman said, his words muffled into the top of her head while his arms tightened around her. “The reason I’m here—fuck, why I want to be here with you—is because I found something when I found you. And that alone makes you worth all of it. I just need you to believe it, too. I swear it’s true.”

Nothing was simple.

Not for Karine.

It couldn’t be.

For him, she tried, though. Just that once to take what he said exactly as he said it, and see it as truth. She had nothing left to lose. She was worth something to him, he said so—what else mattered?

Karine raised up on her toes, peering up before kissing the underside of his chin. When she did, his arms fell around her waist, pinning them in place. She couldn’t quite reach his kiss without help, but he seemed to know exactly what she wanted. Her mouth on his; his tongue teasing, taking, licking even the breath from her lips.

She missed his kiss.

The way he kissed.

The second his mouth met hers, he whispered, “I don’t want to go, either.”

Reminding her exactly who she belonged to all at once while his kiss pounded the final notes of a new song home. The bass came from the beats of her heart; his words made it all ring. And she was trapped by the melody with every flick of his tongue and graze of his lips.

He kissed her bruisingly hard, a hand tight to her waist and another under her jaw keeping her right there. But yes, she wanted it. Making her whine with the need for breath while the blood rushed wildly in her ears. Even in chaos, he was soothing, she only fell into it.

Into him.

Into more.

“I dreamed of you last night,” she gasped as his mouth kissed a hot path over her trembling chin.

His lips paused in their tantalizing trek. “Oh?”

“I can’t remember it.”

“But?”

“I woke up warm.”

His wicked grin formed against jawline. “And?”