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Once I got into the suite on the top floor, I placed Logan between some pillows and let him rest. Then I started running the bath, and in it, I shivered even in the hot water.
What the fuck had I done?
Eric brought me dinner late evening, something no doubt Morag had put together. I ate it in front of the fire, sat on the floor in nothing but my robe. I’d been here in the suite all day, staring into space.
“Morag and Harold won’t leave. They’re both armed to the teeth, vowing to protect you.”
I ignored him. He was part of this… this mess.
I’d let him…
I’d killed three men. No, four. Four.
Plus, Jimmy.
Jimmy, the man my husband had idolised, worshipped. Loved.
I was no better than this faker before me, this charlatan, this fraud.
Deep down I knew it, but my despair, my fear… my self-loathing… was in charge.
I knew why I’d done it, why I was going to do it again.
“You don’t have to feel guilty about anything,” he said, having squatted near the rug I sat on. The food gave the baby food, I told myself. To me, it tasted like ash and shards of glass, but it was for the baby. My baby, with Caelan, my husband. The man I really loved. That man was the true man. This man…
A day spent staring into space, thinking on my sins, had made me see. Finally, see.
Too much didn’t add up.
Truth? What even was that anymore? I didn’t know. Couldn’t feel. Couldn’t see straight. Not without Caelan. Bereft, unsure, broken, I truly was a shell without him.
That had to be why I’d done it, not because I was falling for Eric, the potential liar, the fake.
I couldn’t beinlove with him, could I?
Yet I’d come…
I couldn’t bear it.
The thought.
He caught me grimacing and got on his knees, crawling towards me. He took the empty plate from me, put it on the hardwood floor nearby, and then lay me down on the rug beneath him.
I couldn’t help the way my heart pounded as he removed his t-shirt, untied his hair and looked down into my eyes. I ran my hands over his scarred body, tattooed arms, the familiar bumps of the SAS inking on his back—like Caelan’s—even almost comforting. Perhaps Caelan would see past it and forgive me. This was just while he was gone, to stave off the insanity.
Deep down, I knew he would never forgive me. Maybe get past it, but…
Sliding my hands into Eric’s silky hair, I inhaled sharply when he nudged his cock between my legs.
“My cap,” I said. “In the bedside drawer.”
He went over and fetched it. He even helped me with it. Then I loosened the belt on my robe and he stripped himself naked.
What we did next wasn’t filthy or depraved. He kissed my mouth so lushly, making the pangs in my belly pulse so hard, I thought I’d die. I shook inside his arms as he pushed inside me, rocked with me tightly, never ceasing his worship, his kiss.
“I love you, Flora,” he groaned, right before he came.
Maybe that I could believe. His silver eyes seemed to shimmer, confirming it. He moaned as he drained himself inside me, like he truly was in pain for the wanting of me.
