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He fell back, expecting her to leave the bed, even while they were both still sweating, still recovering from good—no,fucking greatsex. But all she did was push herself into a sitting position with her back against the painted, white headboard. She crooked a finger at him and he moved closer.
Apparently, it wasn’t close enough because she reached out and hooked a hand around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him hard and fast.
“We need to have this talk,” she said softly.
He covered her thigh with his palm, the pain that lingered in the back of her gaze tearing gouges into him.
“You don’t need to tell me.” It hurt to say that—he needed to know what had put those marks on her, needed to know the way he needed to breathe, like the way he needed to see the sun rise and kiss her skin in the morning.
But he needed to avoid causing her pain even more.
He’d already hurt this woman too much.
So whatever it cost him,whateverit cost, he’d take that weight and never let her see it.
“No.” She took his hand and guided it to her belly. “If we’re going to make it, Travis, you need to know.”
She could have sprouted a head and he’d be less shocked.
“Make it?” he croaked.
Isabel smiled and it was the same warm, teasing smile of the girl he’d fallen in love with almost twenty years ago. “Yeah, goofball. Make it. That’s where this is leading, isn’t it ... ? Despite everything, despite the years and ... everything else, I’m still in love with you. I still want to be with you. Grow old with you. Make memories and laugh and fight ... and justbewith you. Aren’t you still in love with me?”
Shaken, he bent and pressed his brow to hers.
Tears burned his eyes and he squeezed them shut until he thought maybe, just maybe, those tears wouldn’t fall.
But he could hear the echo of them in his tight voice as he rasped, “Bella-mine, it would be easier for the stars to fall from the sky than it would be for me to fall out of love with you.”
“Travis ... ” It was a tremulous whisper and her lips brushed his, and then she curled her arms around his neck, clinging to him.
“Even when I was fucking everything up, when I was so wrong and so stupid, I still loved you. I was an idiot—and I’m so sorry for thinking—”
“Stop it.” She pressed a kiss to the vulnerable spot behind his ear. “We were both kids. Both young, desperate, determined kids ... and we were both being manipulated by men far older than us.” Taking a deep breath, she broke away and, after dashing at the tears on her face, she said, “My father knew about us, Travis. He never came out and said it, but he made enough insinuations in the letters he sent from prison—they never got directly to me, but ... Miles held onto to them in case I wanted to read them and stupidly, I read a few. He figured things out, had software put on my phone and was spying on us. He knew about our plans.”
Travis felt his gut go cold.
“Don’t,” she said fiercely, catching his chin even as guilt started to claw at him. “Neither of us could expect a man would turn his own daughter over to a bastard just to keep her under his thumb. EvenIdidn’t see it coming and Iknewhim. And I never thought he’d have my phone ... bugged or whatever. I should have thought of that, too. But I didn’t. I thought we were so careful ... and ... ”
She sighed, tucking her face against his neck and taking a deep breath. “I texted you on Valentine’s Day ... I don’t know if you remember.”
“I remember,” he said in a gritty voice. Hell, he still had the fucking texts, all of them, screenshotted and saved in a secure folder. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly low, he read them, one by one, and thought,what if... but if she was serious ...
“It happened that night. Beresford, I mean. It was just my bad luck I ended up pregnant. And of course, my father found out. I tried to sneak out several times and get an abortion, but ... ” She shuddered.
Instinctively, he smoothed his hand down her back.
“It never worked out.” This time, the words came out cool, strangely flat. The lack of emotion was more disturbing than it would have been if she’d screamed them. “And then ... it was too late. I was too far along. One day, a seamstress and designer showed up in my bedroom. They told me they were there for my final fitting—for the wedding dress. Shit, I was so furious. So desperate. I punched one of them—grabbed a vase and threatened the other. I don’t know which was which. But they both ran out of the room and I took off after them. My father had been ... ” She stopped, swallowed, then cleared her throat and looked up at him. “He locked me in my room. I wouldn’t marry Stephen Beresford and because of that, he locked me in my room. He finally got tired of waiting and maybe thought forcing the issue would solve the problem. It didn’t. I made it to the landing of the stairs before he showed up. We yelled ... I hit him. He hit me back. And I fell.”
Travis snarled before he could stop himself. Cuddling her closer, he rocked her.
And still, she kept talking. “I fell all the way down the stairs ... fifteen of them. I hit my head on the marble tiles in the foyer and when I woke up, it was two days later and I was in the hospital.”
He was shaking, Isabel thought. This big, tough man who had made her bully of a neighbor all but hide in his house sat with her on his lap and he wasshaking. He cradled her like she was something precious and he stroked her hair, nuzzled her temple, kissed her cheek and all the while, he shook.
She made herself keep talking, although the knot in her throat was the size of a fist.
“The baby was dead. There was no saving it and I’m not ashamed to say I don’t feel bad about it. I neverwantedthat child and suddenly, it was gone. I was glad. The second day I was in the hospital, I started bleeding and I had to have emergency surgery to make it stop. The doctor said it was touch and go ... ” She smiled then, thinking of the nurse who had been there by her side when she first woke up—Bertrice, and Dr. Viv. Bertrice had been right about Dr. Viv, although her father had found that out the hard way. “I lay in the hospital, filled with dread because I knew my father would twist it—if I didn’t do what he said, how he said, he’d find a way to make this my fault. I was lying there, trying to think of a way to get away from him, take my sisters and just run. He arrived not long after I woke up ... got chased out. But he came back the day after the surgery ... I know he was worried I’d talk and doctors might listen. Some of them might have the power tomakeothers listen. But he was ... stupid. Or just blinded by his arrogance. He hauled me out of the bed and security had been alerted to watch for him. I was standing there, barely able to stay on my feet and he was having a confrontation ... I started bleeding again, passed out.”
