No, no, no. She can’t.

“While she ranted and cried, I stood there and thought about never seeing you again . . .”

“Delilah . . .”

“The utter futility of that . . .” She shakes her head in distraction. “As if I could turn away from you and it not feel like the loss of a limb. It was that moment when I realized, without doubt, that I loved you.”

“I . . .” My breath leaves in a whoosh when her words truly hit me. “What?”

Her smile is gentle, shy even. “I love you, Macon Saint. So much.”

Lips numb, I stare at her, unable to say a word, much less think. A loud thud is pounding hard and fast, and I realize it’s my heart.

“Macon?” Delilah starts to frown, raising her hand to touch my bloodless cheek. I’m cold, I know. Then my breath releases, and heat rushes along my tingling limbs.

“No one has ever said that to me. No one.” Not my mother—certainly not my shit father. Not a single person. I’ve never heard those words directed at me. Until now.

Until her.

Delilah.

Delilah loves me.

Shaking, I tug her close, awkward and bumbling as I crush her against my chest and hold on tight, my nose buried in her hair. “I love you too. I love you too.”

With a sigh, she rests against me, her cheek pressed to my heart. “It’s been a long road getting here.”

“We were always on it, Delilah.” I ease my grip, let my hands smooth down the curve of her back. I press my lips to her temple, rest them there, and breathe her in. “Loving you was inevitable. You got under my skin at age eleven and never left.”

Smiling, she pulls back enough to look up at me. God, it’s all there in her eyes. She really does love me. As if she knows that I can’t get over that truth, she cups the back of my neck with warm, kneading fingers. “I’m going to love you, Macon Saint. So long and so hard you’re not going to remember what it feels like to be without love.”

And that’s when it finally happens. The prickling heat building behind my lids turns to a blur and slips over. I don’t hide it. It’s a relief. “I don’t know a lot about love other than what I feel for you. I might make mistakes, but I know this much—you are utterly precious to me. I’ll honor you every damn day of my life, if you let me.”

I frame her face with my hands as the words come out thick, unsteady, but directly from my heart. “And what’s between us, Delilah? It’s forever.”

EPILOGUE

Delilah

“Look what my mother found in the attic.” I hold aloft the battered red leather book in question as Macon enters the trailer dressed in full Arasmus gear.

Good Lord, but the man is sex in leather wearing those clothes. How I did not appreciate the glory that was the Warrior King up until now, I’ll never know.

He sets down his ax and is about to unbuckle the leather baldric that holds his sword when his gaze clashes with mine. A slow, sweet smile spreads over his dirt-smudged face. “Stop giving me those sexy eyes, Ms. Delilah.”

I recognize that order. I gave it to him once before. Licking my lower lip, I continue to look him over. “Sexy eyes?”

Macon slowly stalks forward, grinning with intent. “Yes, sexy eyes. Making eyes at me like you . . .”

“Want to stick my head between your thighs and slowly suck you until we both come?” I offer.

With a low growl that goes straight to all my happy places, he scoops me up and brings us both back down onto the small couch, this time with me straddling his lap. “Nice trick,” I murmur.

He brushes the hair back from my face and kisses me deep and long. “Mmm . . . you taste like honey.” His tongue slides over mine in a languid glide. “Speaking of tricks, you were saying something about sucking.”

I’m already unlacing his leather pants. He slides free, hot and heavy. All hail the king.

Two orgasms later, we’re slumped in a sweaty tangle, and Macon toys with the ends of my fluffed-up hair. From outside comes the occasional shouts or calls from various crew members, but in our trailer it’s cozy and quiet.

When Macon had to go back to work, he encouraged me to go on my trip through Asia, that he’d always be there, waiting for me. I was ready to go, but somehow, I found myself on a plane to Iceland, where Macon is filming this season of Dark Castle. I no longer wanted to take a trip of a lifetime if he wasn’t there to share it with me. So we’re going in the fall.

The restaurant, which we’re calling Black Delilah, is in the process of being renovated. I Skype with Ronan daily, and we hope to open the following year.