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Con took a step towards me, his hands in fists at his sides, as if he was holding himself back from reaching for me.
‘I didn’t think it could be that simple. I didn’t think I could just...choose it. And I thought of you, Jenny.’ His gaze intensified. ‘I thought of you, and how honest you are with your emotions. So giving. You never hold anything back.’
He took another step, no ice at all in his fierce gaze now.
‘But you always put what you need and what you want last, and that ends now. Someone needs to put you first, Jenny Grey, and I want that someone to be me. I want to be brave enough to heal, to let my father go to his grave, where he belongs, and I want to be strong enough to love you the way you should be loved. The way youdeserveto be loved.’
My heart was a flower, opening up, spreading its petals wide to catch every drop of sunlight, reaching towards the light. Reaching for him.
I couldn’t wait for him to close that last bit of distance, so I did. Going to him and putting my hands on his chest, not caring about his wet clothes. Not caring about anything but him.
‘Then I’m yours,’ I said simply, looking up at him, drinking in the sight of his beloved face. ‘I’ve always been yours, Constantine Silvera.’
He took a sharp, ragged breath and lifted his hands, cupping my face between them. ‘Dios, I love you, my Jenny. I love you so much. I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. And when our baby is born I want us to be a family. I want to make you happy.’ His thumbs stroked over my cheekbones, the look on his face blazing bright. ‘That’s all I want. Just...to make you happy.’
I cried. I couldn’t help it. The tears were streaming down my cheeks, but this time they weren’t from pain, but from happiness.
‘I want that too,’ I said thickly, and then, because words were too difficult, I went up on my toes and kissed him.
And he ignited.
Because Constantine Silvera had never been ice. He’d always been fire.
And so was I.
EPILOGUE
Constantine
THEDOORTOthe birthing suite opened and Valentin came out. He was carrying a small white bundle and looked completely shell-shocked.
I knew the feeling. Two years and three children later—a boy and twin girls—I still remembered the way it felt to hold your child in your arms for the first time. It was like being hit very hard over the back of the head.
Jenny launched herself out of the seat in the waiting room, where we’d been sitting, and flew over to him, cooing over my new nephew.
Our children were being looked after by the nanny. We’d been at a function to celebrate the launch of Jenny’s new project—a children’s charity I’d helped her set up, though only in a very limited capacity. Jenny was the most competent organiser I’d ever seen, and the charity was mostly her own work. I was just the backer.
Val had called me towards the end of the function, to let me know that Olivia had gone into labour. So we’d left the party early and come straight to the private hospital where Olivia was.
Jenny, still in her evening gown of soft, flowing golden silk, gave Val an enquiring look and then, when he nodded, gently took the baby into her arms.
She looked like a goddess in gold, cradling my nephew, and all I wanted was to take her home and worship her the way she deserved. And I couldn’t deny that seeing her with a baby in her arms, made me want another of our own.
Laurent, our son, loved his sisters to distraction, but it would be nice if he could have a brother. I approved of brothers.
Mine, however, looked as if he needed some support, so I got up too, and went over to my dazed-looking twin, glancing down at the baby boy nestled in Jenny’s arms.
‘He’s beautiful, Val,’ she murmured, stroking his downy forehead. ‘He’s perfect.’
‘Yes,’ Val said, clearly unable to say anything else.
Jenny glanced up at him, then back at me, her dark eyes knowing. She eased the baby into Val’s arms, then said, ‘I’ll go and see how Olivia is,’ before slipping away into the birthing suite, allowing me some time alone with my brother.
She always knew what I needed, my Jenny, without me even having to say. Just as I knew what she needed too. Our connection was deep, strong, and as time went on it only got stronger.
‘How do you do it?’ Val asked, staring down at his newborn son with a fearful kind of awe written all over his face. ‘How do you stand having your heart outside your chest like this?’
I put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. We had walked a long, hard road, my brother and I, and it had taken time to rebuild our relationship. But now we were back where we’d first started. Together. Brothers for ever.
