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Another sob rips from her lips as I take her face in my hands and kiss her with every ounce of my soul. Kiss her to forget the past, and embrace the now.
To let go of my hate and drown in an emotion I’ve never felt before.
I have no idea how long we stay like that, just holding each other, my lips seared to hers. Breathing each other’s air. Being each other’s life raft in an ocean of pain.
“Gavan?” she finally whispers, pulling away. “I… There’s something else. I wanted to tell you, I just… I didn’t want you to worry or…”
I frown, stroking her cheek. “You can tell me anything. Always.”
She swallows. “The men who jumped me that night…” she chews on her lip. “They… It wasn’t a random mugging. They told me to stay away from you. They said the next time I…” her voice breaks.
I lean down to kiss her hand.
“They said the next time I decided to be a ‘Reznikov whore’, there would be bigger consequences.”
My teeth grind so hard I almost crack my molars. And instantly I want to dig those fuckers up and make some sort of deal with the devil to bring them back to life so that I can torment them for anotherdecade.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I didn’t want to start anything—”
“They won’t ever hurt you again.”
She goes still and gasps, her eyes widening.
“I found them,” I growl quietly.
“Did you…”
I take her hands in mine, raising them to my lips. “I told you before: I would, andwill, kill for you, Eilish.”
I pull her into my arms again, letting her cry a little more into my chest before her breathing turns deep and regular. She sleeps against my chest with her face in the crook of my neck for a little while before I get her settled in the bed and slowly slide out of it.
Naked, I pour myself a glass of vodka from the bar cart and pad outside to the balcony. Leaning my elbows on the railing, I breathe in the scent of Paris, looking across the Champs de Mars at the Eiffel Tower glowing in the moonlight.
I will kill for her.
Because I’m in love with her, as I have been for longer than she knows. Longer than I’ve been willing to admit to myself.
The truth is, I fell in love with her the night Declan died—when I saw her burning her fingers picking up the evidence and taking a moment to spit on his corpse.
That’s the moment I realized she was more like me than I would have ever guessed in a million years.
I wonder: did I fall in love with the woman I was supposed to hate because I caught a peek of the darkness she kept hidden inside? Or because of the goodness she so gracefully wrapped her pain in?
Either way, there’s no going back now.
A few minutes later, I smile as I hear soft footsteps behind me. Her arms slide around my waist, and she kisses the middle of my back before her cheek presses to it.
Slowly, I turn and wrap my arms around her. Then, she frowns slightly.
“Why didn’t you just pick anyone to marry you? I mean for the legal battle with that fucking cunt.”
I grin at the venom in her tone when she mentions…well…that fucking cunt.
“Because I didn’t want to marry just anyone,” I say quietly.
Her face heats as she bites her lip.
“Then why haven’t you pressed me for an answer? I mean, surely time is of the essence, and—”
