Page 189

“I’m in love with you, Cillian,” I say out loud, and the whole room goes quiet.

“But… but I am rich… and I know someone rich hurt your family, and I also love you, so I don’t want you to have to choose between your family and me. Because—” Cillian rambles in a panic, so I cup the back of his head and kiss him.

Only this time the kiss isn’t soft; it’s deep and consuming.

It is a need for reassurance, a confession, and a vow all at once.

I end the kiss and lean back just enough to lock my eyes onto his. “There is no choosing, my Prince. I already belong to you.”

“Wow…” Cillian breathes, leaning against my body.

“Yes, wow, Knoxy,” Damián gasps, placing two flower vases full of sunflowers onto the table: one for Cil, and one for Leo. “I can’t believe that’s how you told Cillian you loved him. Where is the telenovela romance?!”

“You told Oliver you loved him after you kidnapped him,” I laugh, my fingers playing with Cillian’s hair, feeling like everything is finally right with the world.

“I’m with Knox on this one. That whole ‘I belong to you’ bit was proper romance, mate.” Law nods, passing a set of silk pyjamas over to Cil and Leo. “Here, hospital gowns are bloody awful.”

“Thanks!” they both say, but Leo immediately starts putting on the shirt.

“All right, move aside, let the professionals handle the emotional recovery.” Leif drops a huge basket of imported Swedish food on the table. “You need your strength back. And yes, I checked the ingredients; none of your shitty local cheese.”

“You brought him imported truffles an’ fancy crackers after they nearly drowned and got stabbed? What’s wrong with you? The men need something decent…” Finni says, placing a Tupperware of their favorite pastries next to the basket. “Like these beauties!”

“Yay!” Cillian cheers, already picking up one of the pastries.

“Hey! Truffles have healing properties, Finnian. It’s science.” Leif glares at the Scottish baker while Alexios hands the patients a smartwatch.

“That has a direct panic-button line to my personal phone. Next time someone grabs either of you, press this before you jump off a balcony or,” he looks at Leo, “get stabbed. It tracks your coordinates, disables local cell towers, and triggers a localized lockdown.”

“Interesting.”

“Where are Logan and Tae?” Cillian asks.

“Logan is signing the last papers with Arthur, and the chief of the hospital begged Tae to help with an emergency organ transplant.”

“Fancy…” Leo mutters with his mouth full of sugar and vanilla.

“Want something to eat?” I ask Cillian. He shakes his head and leans his weight against me.

We stay in the room for another twenty minutes, arguing loudly over whether Leo’s hospital pudding counts as a post-surgery meal and which Harknett carries the best knife, before a nurse comes in to kick us out.

“Night, my Prince. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kiss him, leaving him and Leo to rest.

— ¤ —

Two weeks later…

I add soap to the sponge, squeeze it, and pass it as carefully as I can over Cillian’s back, arms, and chest.

Thank God my shower is gigantic, because I have more than enough room to stand outside the water spray without getting my clothes wet.

“Knox…” my prince complains, just as he has every time I help him in the shower.

“Stop it, Cil. You need to heal first.”

“It’s been two weeks, and the doctor already removed the stitches.”

“He removed them yesterday.”