SANTIAGO
This trip to the island turned out in my favor. I’m no longer nervous about the future because Ciara’s made it clear she wants to stay with me.
Thank fuck.
I don’t know how I would’ve handled having to leave her with Grace.
Eladio is recovering well, and I get to spoil Ciara today for her birthday. Things are looking good.
Lying awake in bed at one am with my arm tucked under my head, I’m too excited to sleep. I’m waiting for five o’clock so I can wake Ciara and we can watch the sunrise together.
A soft shuffling noise has my eyes flicking to the partially open door, and climbing out of bed, I switch on the bedside lamp.
Before Ciara, I used to sleep naked, but since she’s been living with me, I wear sweatpants so I don’t accidentally traumatize her even more.
I walk to the door, and opening it, I find Ciara sitting on the floor right outside my bedroom.
Looking terrified, her eyes dart up to me, and she whispers, “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No.” I crouch down. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”
“I had a bad dream.” Her eyes sweep over my chest, and the fear quickly vanishes from her face.
Holding out my hand to her, I smile. “Want to sleep by me?”
She quickly places her hand in mine, and as I help her up, she says, “Please. If it’s okay.”
“It will always be okay,” I assure her.
I get to have her in my bed.
I lead her into my room and wait for her to climb onto the bed. The light blue shorts and T-shirt she’s wearing has me struggling not to stare at her legs, ass, and the clearly visible curves of her breasts.
Who would’ve thought blue balls would take me out at the age of thirty-eight?
When I bought clothes for her, I made sure there was a variety because I didn’t know what style she preferred. At first, she lived in sweaters and slacks, but since coming to the island, she seems to be growing more confident.
I lie down beside her and switch off the light again. Not letting the chance pass me by, I turn onto my side and reach for Ciara, pulling her close to me.
Lying face-to-face with her, I push my arm beneath her head while brushing her hair away from her shoulder with my other hand.
“Better?” I ask.
Her eyes shine in the dark. “Yes.”
Unable to stop myself, I grip her tightly to my chest. I place my hand behind her head and rest my cheek on her hair.
Ciara’s arm moves over my side and she presses her body fucking hard to mine.
Fuck this feels good.
I rub my hand up and down her back before gripping her hair in a fist and practically squashing her in my arms.
The love I feel for her overwhelms me, and I press a kiss to her head, a tremble shuddering through my body.
Her breathing speeds up, and it sobers me right the fuck up. Pulling back, I ask, “Too much?”
She shakes her head, closing the small distance I put between us. When I wrap her tightly against me again, she whispers, “It just feels very comforting and safe.”
“Good,” I murmur, soaking in how fucking incredible this moment is.
It’s been a month since I found her, and even though she still has to start therapy, she’s made a lot of progress. I plan to bring up the group meetings or one-on-one sessions with our resident psychiatrist when we return home.
Her voice trembles when she asks, “Have you found him?”
“Not yet. But I will,” I assure her.
“Will you kill him?”
I pull back again, and staring into her eyes, I brush my hand over her cheek and hair. “Do you really want to know?”
When she nods, I reach for the bedside lamp and switch it on again. Picking up the stack of tarot cards that’s lying beside my phone, I say, “Usually I let the person choose a card before I kill them.”
Ciara reaches out and takes the cards, slowly looking at each one, then she says, “I like the black and gold.” Her eyes dart to mine. “What does each card mean?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “With ‘The Devil’ and ‘Judgment’, I get to choose how they die.”
She holds up a card. “Strength?”
“I fight the person until either one of us is dead.” Her eyes widen, and it has me quickly adding, “I’m really good at fighting. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I watch as she glances through them again, then she shows me another card with a gold pillar on it.
“The Tower means I throw them off a building.”
“Why do you make them choose? Why not just shoot them?”
“Some people deserve more than a bullet,” I answer honestly. “By them choosing a card, I leave it up to fate.”
Ciara nods, and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth when she looks at the card with the Grim Reaper printed on it.
“Death,” she whispers.
Before she can ask the meaning, I say, “That one’s too gruesome for your ears, mi sol.”
Her eyes flit to my face again. “Are you going to let Nolan choose a card?”
I stare at her for a moment, then ask, “Would you like to pick his card?”
She glances through them all, then stops on Death again. “Is this the worst card?”
“Yes. The person will suffer for weeks.”
She hands me the stack while keeping one for herself. “I choose Death.”
My lips curve into a smile. “Good choice.”
I’m going to have that fucker’s limbs removed one at a time until he loses his mind.
I set the pack of cards down on the bedside table and switch off the light.
When I turn back to face Ciara, she snuggles against my chest again, gripping the tarot card in her hand.
“Try to sleep, mi pequeño sol.”
She rubs her cheek against my skin. “Night, Santiago.”
“Night.” I begin to trail my fingers up and down her back, and a few minutes later her breaths even out as she falls asleep.
Closing my eyes, I enjoy the feel of holding my woman in my arms. I keep dozing on and off until my alarm starts to sound from my phone.
I quickly turn it off, and before I can turn back to Ciara, she scoots closer and stretches out, throwing her leg and arm over me. She hugs me as if I’m her personal pillow, and it has a grin stretching over my face.
There’s not a chance in hell I’m waking her up, and I decide to let her sleep so I can hold her a little longer.
CIARA
Waking up, my mind clears instantly when I feel Santiago’s muscled body beneath mine. Somehow, I ended up sprawled all over him.
Opening my eyes, it’s to one heck of a view of his six pack. I’m still trying to process all the hotness that’s his abs when I notice the bulge beneath his sweatpants.
He doesn’t have an erection, but still, the outline of his manhood is near impossible to ignore.
I wait for the panic and fear to hit, but instead, my cheeks flush hot, and my stomach fills with a nervous tension I’ve only felt once before. It was when I had a crush on a boy at school. Nothing ever came of it, though, and it wasn’t as strong as what I’m experiencing now.
Oh my God. I’m crushing on Santiago and staring at his cock.
I quickly sit up, brushing a hand over my hair in an attempt to tame it.
“Did you sleep well?” Santiago asks, his voice not groggy at all, telling me he’s been awake for a while.
“Yes.” I shoot him a nervous smile and scoot off the bed. “I’m going to make coffee. Can I pour you a juice?”
“Please. I’m just going to freshen up.”
Nodding, I walk out of the bedroom as fast as I can and head straight for the coffee machine. I switch it on, then run to my bathroom and quickly brush my hair and teeth before hurrying back to the kitchen.
Opening the fridge, I see a cocktail blend of fruits, and I pour some into a glass for Santiago. I spin around to put the carton back in the fridge but almost drop it because he’s standing right in front of me.
He takes the carton from me and sets it down on the counter, then he frames my face with his hands and leans down. My heart practically bursts from my chest as I realize what he intends to do, but he only presses his mouth to mine for three seconds max before pulling back, and I feel disappointed it didn’t last longer.
“Happy birthday, mi sol.” He stares deep into my eyes, and it feels as if he’s promising me the world. “I hope today will be amazing for you.”
Only then does it sink in that it’s my birthday.
“Have your cup of coffee and get ready because I have a surprise for you. Dress for the beach.”
A smile spreads over my face, and I quickly add sugar and cream to my mug before taking my coffee to my bedroom, so I can drink it while I’m getting ready for the day.
While I sip on my beverage, I glance over the clothes that were packed for me.
Dress for a walk on the beach.
Crap. No sneakers and socks. Unless I take them off.
Wanting to look pretty, I dig through the clothes until cream fabric with large, tan-colored leaves catches my eye. The pants are high-waisted and flare wide around the legs, and there’s a matching cropped top.
I set the mug down on the dressing table and quickly change into the outfit. The top has thin straps, so I’ll have to go braless for the day.
Walking to the mirror, I check my reflection. The pants cover the scars on my ankles, making me feel brave enough to wear sandals.
I gather my hair and tie the strands in a ponytail, so it won’t blow in my face during the walk.
Standing in the middle of the room, I glance around me. “Okay. I’m ready.” I pat my hand against the chain around my neck, checking that the ring is still there as I leave the room.
Halfway to the kitchen, I remember my cup of coffee. As I turn around to get it, Santiago comes out of his room. He’s wearing light brown pants and a white button-up shirt.
He glances up from where he’s done rolling up a sleeve, then a grin tugs at his mouth. “Wow. That’s officially my favorite outfit on you. Well, besides your pajamas.”
The compliment gives me a self-esteem boost and makes me feel pretty.
When he holds out his hand, I don’t hesitate to take it. Excitement fills me as we leave the house, and in this moment, I feel a little like the woman I used to be.
After I had a nightmare of running through the field with the chain rattling and Nolan shouting my name, I was scared out of my mind, and the memories threatened to drag me under. But then Santiago held me, and his presence alone was enough to ease the fear in me.
He’s become the only thing standing between me and the world.
As we follow a path, the birds chirping in the trees pull me out of my thoughts, and I glance around at the beautiful nature.
Something catches my eye, and seeing a round black table with a gift on it, more excitement pours through me.
“What do we have here?” Santiago says as he pulls me closer to the table. “Mhh…looks like a gift for you.”
A wide smile spreads around my mouth, my gaze darting between his face and the box wrapped in shiny gold paper.
“Open it,” he encourages me while letting go of my hand.
I step closer, and picking up the gift, I carefully peel the tape off before removing the paper. The box is made of black velvet, and when I lift the lid, the smile drops from my face.
I stare at the teardrop diamond earrings, an intense emotion filling my heart.
Santiago steps closer, and picking up one, he lifts it to my ear and gently puts it on for me. He does the same with the other earring, then takes a step back to look at me.
“Perfect,” he murmurs.
I close the distance between us, and placing my hand on his shoulder, I lift onto my tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”
His hand grips my hip, and he gives me a squeeze. “Not half as beautiful as you.”
Feeling flattered, I step back.
He takes the box from me and places it on the table, saying, “It will be taken to your room. Come, there’s still a lot to see.”
I hook my arm through his and lift my other hand to my earlobe to touch the diamond.
They match the ring.
The smile is glued to my face as we wander down the path, and when we walk around a bend, there’s another table with a gift.
“Santiago,” I gasp, my eyes flying to his face. “You didn’t have to.”
“Oh yes, I did.” He tips his head at the table. “Open it.”
I pick up the flat square gift and pull the paper off. It’s another velvet box, and my heart starts beating faster as I slowly lift the lid.
“Oh my god,” I gasp as I stare at the necklace made entirely of diamonds. “This must’ve cost you a fortune!”
Santiago picks up the stunning piece of jewelry, and when he clips it around my neck, I get to take a breath of his cologne with his chest near my face.
Before he can step back to see what the necklace looks like on me, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my face to his shirt. “Thank you so much.”
He brushes his hand up and down my back, and when I pull away, he grins at me and taps his finger against his cheek.
Letting out a chuckle, I stand on my tiptoes again and press a kiss to his cheek.
When I lower myself back to my feet, he reaches for my chest and adjusts the two necklaces. “You were made to wear diamonds.”
My self-esteem gets another boost, and feeling happier than I’ve been in a very long time, I hook my arm through his again.
I hear the roar of the ocean, and when we approach another bend in the path, I expect to see the beach, but there’s another table.
This time, I pull away from Santiago, and letting out a burst of happy laughter, I pick up the gift and turn to look at him. “I want to guess what’s in this one.”
“You can try,” he chuckles. “I’ll give you three guesses, but what do I get if you’re wrong?”
I think for a moment, then ask, “What do you want?”
His expression turns almost predatory, and it has my stomach doing wild cartwheels. “That’s a very dangerous question to ask me. You know what I want.”
Me.
I look down at the gift while thinking of a way to compromise until I’m ready to take the big step with him. I suck in a deep breath, then looking at him again, I ask, “I can give you a kiss?”
Tilting his head, he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and the hot sight has my mouth dropping open.
Holy crap.
He narrows his eyes again, then says, “On the mouth.”
When I nod, he raises an eyebrow at me. “I want to hear the words, mi sol. Verbal consent is a big thing with me.”
There’s a burst of respect in my chest, and it makes it so much easier to say, “Yes, I’ll give you a kiss on the mouth.”
He inhales deeply, then gestures at the gift. “What do you think it is?”
I look at the shape and shake it, but there’s no sound. Thinking he probably got me a set of diamonds, I say, “It’s a bracelet.”
He lets out a sigh. “Lucky guess.”
Chuckling, I quickly open the gift, and seeing the tennis bracelet, I begin to feel emotional. Dad got me one with smaller diamonds for my eighteenth birthday, but I lost it.
“You don’t like it?” Santiago asks.
“I love it. I had one, but I lost it.”
He steps closer to me and as he puts the bracelet on my left wrist, he says, “If you lose this one, I’ll just buy you another.”
I set the box down on the table, and turning to Santiago, I move closer. “You’ve made my birthday so special. I’ll never forget it.”
I’m just about to reach up so I can give him the kiss he wants, but he wraps his arm around my shoulder and nudges me to keep walking.
