Page 58 of Death

“Not mine.”

She glances up at me, caution quickly replacing the relief. “Who’s?”

“A bastard who was involved in sex trafficking,” I answer honestly. “I brought three new women to the village.”

Ciara’s gaze sweeps over me. “But you didn’t get hurt?”

“No.” When it looks like she’s okay with what I just told her, I start to walk to the door, but she quickly follows after me. I stop by the door and say, “I’m going to shower. Do you want to wait on the veranda?”

She shakes her head, and I watch as she hesitates before asking, “Can I wait in your room?”

She wants to stay close to me.

A smile spreads over my face. “Of course.” I head to my bedroom and straight to the closet. While I grab a pair of boxers, white cotton pants, and a matching casual button-up shirt, I notice Ciara sitting down on the edge of my bed. Her gaze is filled with curiosity as it darts all over my room.

Where her’s is decorated in white, mine is all black tones with rich brown furniture. The doors to my balcony are open, and a light breeze plays with the curtains.

“I won’t be long,” I tell her before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

I set the clothes down on the counter and switch on the faucets in the shower. After stripping, I step under the spray and hurry through my routine. Done, I dry off and put on my boxers and pants. I just shrug on the shirt before opening the door, so I can see Ciara again, then begin fastening the buttons.

“Are you still good,mi pequeño sol?”

“Yes,” she answers, her eyes glued to my bare chest.

I stop buttoning my shirt halfway up, and glancing at the mirror, I use my fingers to style my hair. Noticing the strands are reaching past my ears, I make a mental note to get a haircut. Picking up the bottle of cologne, I spray some on.

When I step out of the bathroom, I walk toward Ciara, and taking a chance, I ask, “Can I hold your hand while we walk to the veranda?”

Her eyebrows knot together, and I expect her to say no, but then she stands up, and reaching for my hand, her fingers curl around my palm.

She’s letting me touch her so much more today.

“You are doing so well,” I praise her as I tighten my hold on her. “I’m incredibly proud of you.”

Suddenly, a smile flirts with the corner of her mouth, and I lose my ability to breathe. Unable to stop myself, I beg, “Please smile more.”

Her lips curve up, and her eyes begin to shine as if life has been ignited in her blue irises.

God Almighty, what a sight to behold.

My heart expands to twice its size as an intense emotion fills it. Drinking in the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen, I fall head over heels in love for the first time in my life. It’s fast, steamrolling over me until I’m completely and utterly devoted to the woman in front of me.

I knew it was bound to happen, but as the emotion bleeds through my soul, I’m still caught off guard by the sheer intensity of it.

This little ray of sunshine that’s been broken will be whole again so she can love me back.

It becomes my soul's purpose in this life.

I bring her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to it before saying, “You should smile every second of every day, Ciara.”

As we leave my room, I adjust our hands and link my fingers with hers. Glancing down, my eyes land on the ring I got a year ago for Ciara, and I turn her hand so I can gauge the size of her finger. I notice where my skin is tanned, hers is as white as snow.

She’ll burn easily in the sun.

I keep looking at the differences between us as we walk through the house. My arms are covered with tattoos, and Ciara doesn’t have any. Not that I can see.

My gaze travels up to her face, and I realize she doesn’t even have earrings on.