Page 93 of Sweetest Sin

When we step out of the elevator, we’re met by an older gray-haired gentleman, sporting a sleek tux. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Antonov.”

I glance at Dominick, and he smirks, all too pleased with me being referred to as his wife.

“Welcome to the Miami Museum of Art.”

I whip my head around to look at Dominick again, who simply nods at the gentleman.

“We’re at an art museum?” I ask even though I already know we are.

“You still love art museums, right?” Dominick asks, following the gentleman as he walks us down a narrow hallway and out a back door.

“I do. I love all museums, especially ones filled with art.”

But how does he know that?

“But first, dinner,” Dominick says, pointing to a table and chairs that are situated outside, overlooking the water.

“Dom,” I breathe, my heart beating rapidly in my chest as I take in the romantic scene in front of me.

We’re at an art museum.

On the beach.

Having a candlelit dinner.

Then, the gentleman lifts the silver tops covering the plates. And I’m done.

Because sitting on my plate is none other than pancakes, bacon, and eggs.

“Breakfast for dinner,” I choke out, tears filling my lids. “You …” I shake my head, and Dominick smiles warmly at me. “You remembered.”

Over four and a half years ago, I told him all the things I loved, and he not only remembered, but he’s combined them to create the perfect date.

“I once let you go,” he says, reaching over the table and taking my hand, “because I thought it was for the best. The truth is, it probably was. I never wanted you to be caught up in my shit. Immersing you in my world is dangerous, and with the enemies I have, loving you is a weakness I can’t afford. Despite all that, I still love you and want you because the idea of not having you and our son in my life is unfathomable.”

Oh my God … he just said … he just said he loves me.

“You love me?”

Dominick chuckles and shakes his head. “All that, and that’s what you focused on? Did you not hear the part about my world being dangerous and me having enemies?”

“Yeah, but I already knew that.” I shrug. “What I didn’t know was that you loved me.”

He scoots back, and I take that as my cue to get up and round the table, climbing into his lap so I’m sitting sideways across his thighs.

“Yes, Peyton, I love you. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you since the moment you fell into my lap on the plane. But I didn’t want to admit it.”

He loves me. This hard, cold businessman, who shows no mercy to anyone, loves me. I should be focused on the facts that his world is dangerous, that he has countless enemies, and that our son needs a guard with him at school to keep him safe. That every moment I’m with him, our lives are at risk.

But the only thing that matters is that he loves me. He listens to me, values me. He is a hands-on, loving father, and he wants to give us a wonderful life.

This is what I’ve always wanted. What my mom wanted, but died without ever having. To be loved so fiercely by a man that he would do anything for me, including creating a thoughtful, perfect date. It seems so trivial, but isn’t that what life is all about? Falling in love and finding happiness.

And Dominick Antonov makes me happy.

“I love you,” I tell him, “And I’m so glad we found our way back to each other.”

My mouth crashes down on his, and as we kiss, all thoughts of breakfast and the museum are lost. All I want is to love Dominick and be loved by him.