The second time I wake in Grant’s arms, I know I belong here. I’m his.
It’s too easy. He pulls my knee over his legs and slips into me from behind and I’m in a haze of sleepy pleasure that only comes into focus when he strokes my clit and my breasts as he fucks me. I’m surrounded and overwhelmed by him.
I presume my whole life with Grant won’t just be showers and sex, though I’m ready to admit this pattern is not one I’m in a hurry to change. Getting deliciously dirty then getting clean again.
But when I finish towelling my hair as I come out of the bathroom, I find Grant fully dressed and scowling at his phone.
“He’s not as stupid as I thought in one way,” Grant says grimly, understanding my unspoken question without me even asking. “But in another is surpassing every village idiot.”
“What’s happening?” I wrap the towel more closely around me.
“Your ex-fiancé, or as he wrongly terms it—husband—”
“What! No!” I rush to Grant and grip his arm.
“Is saying that I’ve stolen his wife and he’s outside, waiting to talk. He’s demanding restitution. Pretentious git.” Grant’s expression is dark and crackling like a night-time thunderstorm.
I’m shaking. No. No way. My very soul revolts at the idea of going back to that man who would revel in crushing me. “I’m not going back to him.”
Grant pulls me to his chest and smooths his hand down my back. “Of course you’re not. You’re mine. You always were.”
“Was I?” I whisper, because hearing him say that is a balm like I’ve never known.
“Yes,” he replies firmly.
My mind is whirring. “Those clothes. They’re exactly like ones I’ve worn. And it doesn’t make sense you bought them when you heard about my brother’s plan. That was only last month.”
He nods slowly. “You’re a clever girl. You know.”
“You’ve been watching me. I wasn’t going crazy seeing you everywhere. It was you.” It’s magic. Despite all my fears, nothing bad was ever going to happen, because Grant was protecting me.
“I’ve watched you for three years.” He strokes my hair and there’s a thread of anxiety as he confesses, as though he thinks I might disapprove. “Since I first saw you at a fundraiser for animals or something.”
“The donkey sanctuary,” I say. I was eighteen and I’d finally persuaded my brother I should be allowed to go to events. And that was when I began to notice careful, watchful grey eyes. First across the room, tangling with my gaze and making my toes curl. Then on odd occasions, like a warm palm on my hip.
“It spun me into an alternate dimension, Jessa. Nothing has been the same since. I knew I had to have you. But I wasn’t going to negotiate with anyone else. Not your brother, certainly. I could have crushed him, but leaving you without a legal guardian was not ideal. So I’ve been waiting for you to be old enough to make your own decisions legally. And when you could, I intended to seduce and charm and win you over until you chose me.” His mouth twists ruefully. “It wasn’t actually my idea to kidnap you. Not until I realised what those bastards were planning.”
“I’m glad you did.” Understatement of the year. Finding Grant is a thousand times better than being alone in Australia. Or worse.
“You don’t mind,” he states.
“I don’t mind,” I scoff. “I like it.” I do. His love is a cashmere robe. So light and soft I didn’t even realise I was wearing it and it was keeping me warm. I thought I was naked and vulnerable but all this time I was wrapped in the most luxurious care.
He exhales in sheer relief and his hands cup my jaw before he kisses me. “Good. Because I will look out for you for the rest of our lives. When you’re busy taking the world by storm as an interior designer, I’ll be watching you. Now, we’re going to talk to David together. Put on the dress.”
He tips his chin towards my wardrobe.
“That?” I ask doubtfully when I point at the soft pink dress. It’s floor-length evening wear. Not very practical, and I kinda hoped to save it as a wedding dress. Weird and presumptuous, I know.
“Yes. You’re my queen. And there are some accessories I’d like to add.”
My heart thumps wildly. I can’t believe… And yet I can. It’s quick but it’s like coming home.
He kneels and there’s the sound of friction as he draws a wooden box inset with mother of pearl I hadn’t noticed from the bottom of the wardrobe.
Opening it up, I admit I was expecting a velvet box. Shock clogs my throat when I see a leather strap and a small gun.
“But.”
“I’ll always be here to protect you, sweetheart. But you’re strong and brave and resourceful too. Come here.”
Like I’m on strings, I do. Kneeling at my feet, he buckles the leather strap around my thigh. I can still barely breathe.
“That’s why you want me to wear the long flowing dress.” I only realise when he drops my skirt and it perfectly covers everything. “It will hide a gun.”
“And you can defend yourself if required. I want you to feel what I see in you. That you are powerful and beautiful and strong.”
Powerful and beautiful and strong. With this amazing man kneeling before me, I do feel all those things.
“I’ve never used a gun,” I confess in a whisper.
“You can do it,” Grant replies with absolute confidence.
He guides me through each step, from taking it from the holster on my thigh to loading a bullet and taking off the safety.
“Like this.” He readjusts my hands on the weapon as I hold it as he instructs, and immediately it feels better. “Never point it at anything you don’t want to die a painful death.”
I think of my murderous fiancé. Yeah. I wouldn’t mind.
Grant’s straightforward faith in me rubs off. I don’t want to use this gun, I don’t want to be in this situation. But where the choice is being by my future husband’s side or cowardice, there will never be a question. I will be next to the man I love. Every single time.
I knew that violence was part of the mafia, but after an attempt on my life and seeing an actual gun, the reality is now vivid. It’s all so much like something I might have watched on television.
And Grant? He’s that morally grey, swoon-worthy hero. The man you’re not supposed to want, but can’t help but fall for.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
He kneels back down and I’m so distracted by the weight of the gun on my leg that I don’t notice at first that he’s holding a ring box open. Inside is a platinum band with a massive sapphire, facets glittering in the buttery morning light.
“Really?” A part of me still can’t believe this is all for me.
“You think I’d forget,” he chides gently. “You think I’d take you to face him without my ring on your finger?”
He takes my hand and slides the ring onto the fourth finger of my left hand. It slots over my knuckle and in place, it’s like when Grant and I joined this morning. This ring is lucky. I’m sure.
“It’s gorgeous. Amazing.”
He huffs with half laughter. “It’s nothing compared to your eyes. A pale imitation. Merely the best money can buy. Beauty like yours must be stolen.”
