Page 196 of Morally Black Betrothal

Then he handed me the binoculars and pointed. “Look at the top of that building.”

I shivered at the sandpaper rasp of his cheek against mine and the pressure of his erection against my backside. Whatever I was feeling, I wasn’t alone.

Brendan chuckled. “Soon, baby. But right now, I want you to look. See the nest?”

I raised the binoculars, adjusting the focus until a thicket of sticks and branches came into view, built into the parapet of the tower on Old South Church. Perched at the edge were two enormous birds with white heads and dark bodies.

“Are those bald eagles?” I breathed as if my voice would disturb them from here.

“John and Abigail, according to Pyotr. I’ve been watching them since they mated two years ago. The church is pissed because they can’t legally have them removed, but I gave them an endowment to maintain the building when the eagles aren’t there.”

I smiled to myself. Yet another example of Brendan’s silent generosity. Maybe one day I could convince him to show that side to the world more often. People deserved to know what kind of man he really was.

Or maybe he just deserved the credit.

I watched the birds for a moment longer while Brendan wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck.

“They mate for life too, you know,” he murmured.

“They do?”

“It’s true.” His arms tightened around me while one hand slipped underneath my sweater to cup my breast in a way that was more proprietary than sexual, even as his thumb brushed my nipple. “But only after almost dying.”

I lowered the binoculars and turned in his arms. His hand fell back to my waist but didn’t let go.

“Tell me more.” I set the binoculars on a table next to us.

“It’s called a death spiral. When bald eagles are courting, they lock talons mid-flight and spin toward the earth. Faster and faster, plummeting hundreds of feet.” His full mouth quirked with secret joy, and it was all I could do not to kiss him. “It’s only at the last possible moment that they break apart and soar back up. But when they survive that—almost crashing together and escaping death—they know they have a bond for life. Like they have to know how bad it might get to know they can trust each other forever.”

We watched each other for a long moment while the wind picked up around us as if shouting its agreement. It didn’t take a genius to understand what he was implying.

We’d just gone through our own death spiral, hadn’t we? The lies, the betrayal, the kidnapping. A day ago, I’d had a gun to my head. I’d seen my death cross Brendan’s face when he’d found me.

We had locked our own talons and rocketed toward destruction.

And we’d survived.

I didn’t bother to stop the tears falling down my cheeks. And Brendan didn’t bother to wipe them away. Neither of us wanted to deny the pain of the last few days. There was something important about it, I realized. Something critical to our future.

Finally, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders, the other at my waist as he tugged me close.

“I will never let you fall that close again,” he whispered fiercely into my hair. “Never. Do you understand me?Never.”

My fingers clung to the soft fabric of his hoodie, and for the first time, I let out everything that had been swirling inside me—not just for the last days, but years. The grief of the little girl who had lost her mother too young. The pain of the young woman forced to care for too many people who should have cared for her too. The heartbreak of the person whose heart had been broken, threatened, terrorized, then healed.

Brendan held me through it all.

Eventually, when my sobs had quieted to hiccups, he unwound my arms from around his neck. At first, I thought he was pulling away. It was too much. My vulnerability, the whole situation.

Maybe I’d read this all wrong. Maybe it was goodbye.

Then he sank to one knee.

“Simone?”

My voice caught in my throat. I couldn’t speak.

His face was more open and vulnerable than I’d ever seen it, those near-black eyes suddenly cast with gold from the setting sun.