Page 83

“I’ll live then.” His eyes devoured me, raking over my face, my lips. “How are you? Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “Just what you saw. I told the police what happened.”

“Everything?”

I took his hand and squeezed. “Yes. They’ve arrested him, but his dad has already made a statement on television. He said he knows Colby’s innocent, so we may have a bumpy road ahead of us.”

“Like hell we will.” Winston Blay walked in the room, his suit wrinkled from being up all night with Dax and me. We’d spent the last few hours talking a lot, and I’d filled him in on everything about Colby and what had happened to me. He’d been surprisingly understanding, and we’d formed a bond while waiting for Declan to pull through surgery. He’d told me how he was glad Declan had come to him for money instead of continuing the illegal fights. In the end, I think all he wanted was for Declan to find some happiness. “He may be a Senator, but I’m an ambassador, and no jerk-off southern good ole boy is going to try to kill my son and think he’s going to get away with it.”

Dax did a fist pump. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

I leaned down to Declan. “Your dad has been on the phone all morning, lining up lawyers and talking to bigwigs. He’s been good to me, too. He found my mom and Karl in Petal and they’re at their local police station now, giving a statement about how they tried to blackmail the Scotts’.”

That seemed to satisfy Declan. He gazed at me. “God, I was so afraid I was going to lose you forever. I—I don’t think I would have survived that.”

I kissed him, not caring that people were watching, but Mr. Blay and Dax discreetly left the room. I pulled back and rested my face against his shoulder. “No, I was afraid you were dead. I—I can’t even think about it.”

Declan patted the covers. “Get in the bed with me.”

I eyed him warily. “You’ve got too many wires hooked up to you to get freaky.”

“I don’t want to shag you. I want to love you.” He sat up in bed and scooted over. There was barely room for me, he was so big, but he tugged me down until I was lying across him, his hard body warm against mine. He pushed a hand through my hair to cup my head. “When I get out of this hospital bed, I am taking you away from this town and we are going to be alone, without the gym or uni or family or anything. I have some things to show you.”

“Good things?” I teased.

“I want to take you to London and show you where I grew up. I want to visit my mum’s grave with you and tell her how I found the perfectly broken girl to fall in love with. I want to watch you eat a proper shepherd’s pie—maybe show you how to make it.”

“I don’t cook. All I can make is ramen noodles.”

He smiled. “Then I’ll eat ramen.”

Poor guy.

I laughed. Giddy. “You really do love me,” I teased. “I’m yours, Declan, and I will do my best to make you happy and never live with any stupid regrets. I promise you I will always focus on the future.” I pressed my lips to his lightly. “I’m not going to judge myself on the past. I don’t live there anymore.”

He studied me as I talked, and when I stopped, his mouth captured mine, his tongue sweeping out and plunging deep. I sank into him, immersing myself in his scent, his warmth, his bulk. He kissed me soft and sweet, then hard and dark, just like I liked it.

I came up for air. “It’s you, always you, my Mr. Darcy.”

“I love you too, Elizabeth Bennett.”

We lay together cuddled up in a tangle of limbs as the sun peeked over the horizon. Two years ago, I’d watched another sunrise and had vowed to never love again, but this, this was different.

This was the beginning of my life.

I’d sensed it from the moment I saw him at that frat party, that movie-worthy experience we sometimes get when we sense a shift in the atmosphere as if something extraordinary is about to happen. It had. I’d found him even with my rules dragging me down. And we’d have troubles like all young people do. Love is never perfect, in fact, it’s the exact opposite of perfect, but that’s okay, because it gives you room to grow and explore. There’d be times when we’d bicker and argue, but we’d have great make-up sex too. And no matter what came our way, I was in this for real. If he wanted to use his fists, I’d stand in his corner and kiss him before he put his gloves on.

He’d do the same for me.

“What are you thinking?” he asked a while later as we snuggled.