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“Te amo, mi cielo.”
“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”
“Never. I’ll never leave you,” I promised, keeping my voice gentle as my body heated up again, wanting release, but this time with him.
He came inside me, the only man to do so, and I felt it like a tidal wave, not because of the physical sensation but the emotional awareness that we could be making a baby.
“I love you,” he whispered when he was spent, his face buried in my neck. “I love you so much. I can’t live without you. Don’t make me.”
Something was up, I thought. I made all the promises he demanded as I stroked his back, trying to soothe him.
After we took a shower where we made love again because he wanted toclaim me—his words—we put on fluffy robes and sat on his couch.
The suite was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering Dallas skyline. A bottle of whiskeysat half-empty on the table next to a glass he hadn’t bothered to use.
Everything about it screamed wealth, power, and control. Everything about him said he was losing his grip on all three.
“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” I asked gently, shaking my head when he lifted the whiskey bottle.
He set it back down, not pouring himself any either. I wasn’t sure how much drink he’d consumed in addition to the half-empty bottle, but since he was in full control of his faculties—as in he was able to walk, talk, and fuck—I assumed he wasn’t off-the-wall drunk.
A ghost of a smirk flickered across his lips, but it didn’t stick. “Why are you here?” His voice was quiet, rough.
“You didn’t sound right when we talked.”
“And you came?” There was wonder in his voice.
“Of course.”
“You love me?”
“Yes, Duke.” I shook my head. “You wanna tell me what’s up?”
He wearily ran a hand over his face. “I’m fine, Elena.”
“Bullshit.”
His jaw ticked. “Fiona was arrested.”
“I’m aware. Kaz let me know.”
“I should’ve called you.”
“It’s fine. You had to get through whatever this was, and it wasn’t easy from what I can see.”
“He tell you she admitted to everything?”
I frowned. I didn’t give a flying fuck about Fiona. “Duke?—”
“When I sat in that restaurant with her, I realized how much like her I used to be.” He turned, his eyes reflecting pain. “If I hadn’t come home, if I hadn’t seen you, I would’ve becomeher.”
By her, I wasn’t sure if he meant Fiona or Gloria. But that didn’t matter because he’d never be either of them.
“No,” I said confidently. “You’d never become a cold-blooded killer.”
“Without you, I was someone else. I liked that man, Elena.”
“Sure, you did. That man didn’t get hurt.”