Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“You called your private doctor in the middle of the night to bring you Novocain syringes so I could sleep more comfortably?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Evie, I can’t stop myself when it comes to you. I even brushed your teeth while you were out. No easy feat, but you know I’m not a quitter. Honestly, I’d do anything for you.”
I glance down at the bruise on his chest. “Except die.”
“I might do that too, if circumstances permit.” He takes my hand and places it on his chest. “I’ve never wanted to protect anyone the way I want to protect you.” He gives me a half-smile. “But given the way you just cracked my nose, I get the feeling you’re pretty good at protecting yourself.”
“I’ve worked on not being a victim ever again.” I sigh. “But I guess I need to take more self-defense classes. I just … Charles came up behind me and grabbed me, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save myself. You have no idea how frustrating that is.”
“He’s twice your size, Evie, and he had the element of surprise.”
“I hate …” I shouldn’t be telling him any of this. But with the morning sun filtering through his wide windows and draping across his body like a warm blanket, I feel so open. Vulnerable. No one has ever known me, but that’s by design. I couldn’t let anyone get close. My life has far too many secrets, too many dark corners, and absolutely too many ghosts.
“What’s going on in here?” He runs his fingertips along my forehead.
I meet his gaze, the way he looks at me melting me from the inside. “I was just saying I hate to feel helpless. The last time I felt that way …” I can’t finish the thought out loud. It means too much and carries too much weight. Because Lucius is part of the reason I’ve never been able to open up to anyone. Not just because of what he did to Red, but because I’d wanted him so badly in my extravagant teenage fantasies. He’d colored every aspect of my early life, and then he’d destroyed everything. Blasted away the parts of me that kept me bound to this place, to these people, to the horrors of the Acquisition.
“I get it. The last time you felt helpless was when I killed your—”
I lean up and kiss him, taking the sting of that statement away before he can complete it.
He answers, pressing me down onto the pillow as his mouth takes mine in a vehement kiss, one that blurs the lines between lust and love. Because in this moment I realize, I do love him in a way that’s as confusing as it is real. It’s desire, it’s nostalgia, it’s longing, it’s so many emotions wrapped in a tight bundle. He’s been at the center of that bundle all along. In my nightmares and wildest dreams—it’s always been him.
How long have I loved him? Even when he killed Red? Even then? The thought horrifies me but also rings true. Maybe I’ve never let anyone get close because I didn’t want just anyone. I wanted this devil with the angel eyes. I want his love, and I have to give him mine. He demands it of me—when he protects me, when he saves me, when he risks everything for me. That revelation is like some sort of bomb that detonates through me. I’m the same, yet not. Evie, Evelyn, whoever I’ll become—I’m someone who knows love, and that’s all anyone can ever truly hope for, isn’t it?
When he climbs on top of me, I realize he’s naked beneath the sheet.
I grip his shoulders, my nails digging in as he rests between my thighs.
Pulling back from the kiss, he cups my cheek. “Is this what you want?”
“What?”
“I want you to be sure, Evie. Because once we do this, I’m never letting you go. I’ve waited my whole life for you. I just didn’t realize it. Not until you shot me through the heart.”
“That’s a lot of pretty words from a vicious Vinemont.” My eyes water as I look up at him.
He nips at my bottom lip. “Fewer then? In that case, I’ll make it simple. I love you, Evie.”
How can this be real? How can we both have taken such long, twisted roads and arrived at the same place? I don’t know the answer to that. I probably never will.
“Love? From the devil?”
“Such as it is. It’s yours.”
Warmth suffuses my skin, lighting me up as I stare into his eyes. “I shouldn’t. I tried not to. I fought it so hard.” A tear leaks from my eye, and he catches it on his fingertip. “But I … I think I love you, too.”
For a moment, he looks surprised. Why does that seem both heartbreaking and adorable at the same time?