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“I’m sorry,” I mutter against his skin.

“About what?” He meets my gaze.

“Last night must’ve been a nightmare for you.” I swallow. “Thank you.”

“The only thing that was a nightmare for me was when you asked me not to touch you.” He holds me tighter. “You can ask me for anything except that. Your freedom is the one thing I’m not willing to give you.”

“Take it. I don’t want it.” I scoot up to kiss his lips. “Being here with you, like this, is all I want. I want you.”

“Then, you have me.” He runs his hand down my back. “Scars and all.”

“Always.” I rest my head on his shoulder.

We sit in silence while the sunrays bathe the suite in warm light. Then, the landline rings.

“Jesus. You’d think always would be a little longer than a minute.” He sits up and answers. “Yes?” His eyebrows go up in surprise. “We’ll be right down. Thanks.” He hangs up.

“What’s going on?” I sit on my ankles next to him.

“If I ask you to stay in the suite, would you listen to me?” he asks.

“Are you ordering me to stay in my cell?” I furrow my brows. “You know, like I’m your prisoner?”

He chuckles. “This is why giving you orders is much easier and efficient.”

“Why do you want me to stay here?” I’m not complaining. I wouldn’t mind staying in bed with him all day, but there’s something suspicious in the way he’s being honest about what he wants, but also, sneaky. How is he even doing that? I kiss his lips. “You can tell me, I promise I won’t freak out. Is it bad?”

“No.” He takes in a deep breath. “My family came home last night.”

“Oh.” I look over to the clock on the mantel. “Omigod. We’re still in bed. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I wanted to make sure you and I were okay first.” He brushes the back of his fingers down my cheek. “Are we?”

“We are.” I nod, placing my hand over his on my cheek. “So your mom is really here?”

“Yes, and she wants to meet you.” His gaze roams down to my naked breasts. “I promise we can come back to bed right after lunch.”

“Okay.” I squirm a little. “Are you sure she’s not going to hate me instantly? I mean, we did get married without her consent.”

“Hmm.” He winces a little. “She might be piqued for a minute. But I think she’s really going to love you. Especially after she realizes how happy you make me.”

My heart skips a beat. “I make you happy?” I shake my head. “How?” I point at my wrists and the evidence of my latest episode. “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“I’m glad I did. Because now I understand so much more about you.” He brushes wet strands of hair away from my face. “How long have you been doing that?” He takes my arm to inspect it.

The cuts are tender but not infected or swollen. I try not to picture how bad things got one time when I didn’t tend to my arm. And there wasn’t anyone in the house who cared enough to help me with the bandages.

“Does your dad know you do that?” he asks. “Does Chuck?”

“They do.” I nod. “It’s just the thing I do. They know it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything, Paloma.” He places a finger under my chin. “If they choose to look away it’s because they know they’re probably the cause of it.” He pulls me into his arms. “If they stopped being so selfish for a just a minute, they would see how much they hurt you with their lack of concern.”

“Chuck is mad at me for stealing you from him.” I smile. I’ve never had anyone to say things like that to. “But he’ll come around. He’s always mad at me for something. Mostly because of how much attention I get from Dad.”

“That sounds like Chuck.” He shakes his head. “He walks through life thinking the world owes him a great deal.” He draws circles on my bare back. “Have you ever seen a therapist for it?”

I nod. “In college. I secretly started talking to a school counselor who helped me. But then, Dad found out and made me stop.” I take in Archer’s scent.