Page 28 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire (Heart & Soul #2)
A shudder ran through Theo before he could stop it. “Me too,” he said quietly. It was the truth—and also the understatement of his life.
“Come,” Christos suggested from behind them, his deep voice even. “A quiet drink on the terrace before dinner might be nice. We have company. They wanted to give you a moment.”
Theo nodded, walking toward the steps—only to slow as a new pair of figures emerged onto the terrace.
Lorenzo. Sophia.
Rose’s soft, almost broken cry snapped his gaze to her. She had gone still ahead of him, her eyes locked on the elderly couple, tears shimmering.
When they opened their arms, she surged forward, and they enveloped her in an embrace that was pure, unconditional love.
Theo stood rooted where he was, his chest a battlefield. This reunion could take her from him. Lorenzo and Sophia had already lost so much; he could see it in the way they clung to her, their bodies trembling.
He clenched his fists at his sides. He would not lose her. Not to danger. Not to the Rossi family. Not even to the people who loved her as fiercely as he did.
She was his. And after today, he knew he’d do anything— anything —to keep it that way.
The night air was warm but edged with a touch of coolness. This evening, the sea's breath met the shore in a symphony of hushed, whispering waves. Not loud and crashing, but soothing and gentle, like a soft caress.
Theo stood at the terrace rail, a glass of whiskey in hand, watching the moonlight ripple across the water.
Dinner had been… lively. Rose had retired early with a wry smile and the comment that “being kidnapped takes a lot out of a girl.” Dani had laughed and replied that being pregnant was just as bad.
Now, the villa was quiet.
He should have gone with Rose, but his emotions still rode too close to the surface. The thought of losing her had carved a hollow in his chest, and he needed a moment to fill it with something steadier before he saw her again.
Footsteps echoed softly against the tile behind him.
He turned, his gaze landing on Lorenzo. His godfather moved to stand beside him at the rail, the older man’s presence grounding and familiar. They stood in companionable silence for a long moment, both staring out at the endless stretch of dark water.
“I’ve been following what’s been going on,” Lorenzo said finally, his voice low.
Theo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“After the DNA results came back, I shared them with Sophia, Lucinda, and Raff. I asked Raff to keep an eye on Rose.” Lorenzo’s gaze stayed on the water, but there was nothing casual in his tone. “I know about your relationship with my granddaughter.”
Theo’s lips twitched. Of course he knew. Lorenzo always knew.
“What are your intentions?”
Theo breathed out a sigh, the corners of his mouth lifting into a quiet chuckle. He looked down at the amber in his glass, swirling it once before lifting his gaze to meet Lorenzo’s.
“I should have known you’d be on top of things.” He let the truth come without hesitation. “I’m in love with her. And I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Lorenzo’s face softened, a slow, genuine smile breaking across it. “Then you have my blessing. I would be proud to call you my son—not that I don’t already think of you as one.”
Something in Theo’s chest loosened. The approval meant more than he’d realized, settling in his bones like a promise kept.
Lorenzo glanced toward the villa, his expression turning warm. “Sophia and Lucinda will work with your mother to plan the wedding. It will be a true joining of two great families.”
Theo’s lips curved. “God help me,” he murmured, but there was no mistaking the quiet joy in his voice.
Lorenzo’s chuckle was deep and satisfied as he lifted his own glass. “To you and Rose. And to the future. Thank you for bringing my family peace, Theo.”
Theo raised his glass in return, the clink ringing softly between them. “To the future. To family.”
The whiskey burned warm down his throat, but it was nothing compared to the heat of relief and anticipation in his chest.
For the first time since that phone call from Nikos, the knot in his stomach eased. Rose was safe. She was his. And now—finally—he could start thinking about forever.
The villa was quiet when Theo slipped back inside. The air carried the faint scent of sea and jasmine, a reminder of where they were… and that they’d made it here together.
In their room, the lamplight was low, casting a warm glow over the bed where Rose lay curled beneath the covers. He stood for a moment just watching her, letting the sight of her—safe, breathing, here—wash over him like a tide.
He crossed to the bathroom, stripped, then stepped into the shower.
The rush of warm water beat against his tense muscles.
He let it run over his face, down his neck, across his chest—that still felt tight from the hours he’d spent imagining losing her.
By the time he turned the water off, the tension had eased, but his need for her had grown.
Sliding between the sheets, he eased close, careful not to wake her—until she sighed, her hand tracing down his chest in a touch that was both tender and claiming. Her lips brushed his shoulder, lingering there, warm and real, grounding him because she was here.
“I missed you,” she murmured, snuggling closer and sliding her hand down to wrap around his full shaft.
He turned his head toward her, and in that moment, whatever fragile leash he’d been holding on his emotions unraveled, leaving only the raw need to hold and love her.
He rolled toward her, gathering her into his arms and kissing her like he needed her breath to survive. She kissed him back, her fingers curling into his hair and pulling him closer. The fear, the relief, the love—it all tangled together, fierce and overwhelming.
He cupped her face, brushing his thumb over the softness of her cheek as if committing her to memory—the curve of her lips, the warmth in her eyes, and the quiet strength that had kept her safe until he could reach her.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“You didn’t,” she murmured. “I’m right here.”
His chest constricted. He kissed her again, slower this time, as if savoring each second, each taste. His hands moved over her with reverence, learning her all over again, mapping every inch as though proving to himself she was whole.
She bowed into him, her breathy gasps searing him. Her legs fell apart in invitation as her hips rose. The slick slide of flesh made him groan. He deepened his kiss, their tongues tangling in a wild dance.
When he finally slid into her, it wasn’t with urgency but with a deep, steady connection—each movement a vow, each breath a silent promise he would never let her go.
She held him close, her legs curling around his waist, her breath soft in his ear. Their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt older than either of them, unhurried and certain.
Her eyes found his in the lamplight, and whatever walls he’d built inside himself crumbled. He let her see everything—his fear, his devotion, the way she’d carved herself into him so deeply, there was no separating them.
“I love you, Rose. I love you so damn much, it terrifies me,” he said, his voice rough, breaking just enough to betray the truth.
Her answering smile was tender, luminous. “I love you too.”
He rolled his hips. His fingers threaded through her hair, tightening. He wanted to make love slowly, but his emotions were too ravaged, too close to the surface. She understood.
Her legs loosened from around his waist, her hands rising to cup his face, her gaze locking with his—wordless understanding passing between them.
“Love me, Theo. I don’t want gentle. I want to know I’m alive… here… with you,” she pleaded.
“God, Rose! S’agapó , my beautiful Rose. I love you, kardiá mou.”
He would love every inch of her body tonight. They both released a low moan when he pulled out of her. His lips worshipped her. He kissed his way down along her jaw to her throat. His lips pleasured her nipples until she was begging him for release.
He trailed down her smooth stomach and feasted. Her body writhed beneath the onslaught, but he held her there until she shattered.
While her body still trembled from her release, he guided her onto her stomach, lifting her onto her knees with a tenderness that contrasted the raw possession of his next thrust—burying himself fully, completely, as if staking his claim all over again.
“Theo!” she whimpered, sensitive to the point of pain.
“You’re mine, Rose,” he declared as he drove into her, wrapping his arms around her and cupping her breasts as he pulled her closer. He rocked his hips in deep thrusts, holding her tighter as he felt his release building. “And I’m yours.”
“I… belong… to you,” she choked, her voice cracking with emotion and need.
“Yes. Yes, agápi mou! ” he shouted, his voice hoarse as he thrust one last time, burying himself as pleasure burst from him and his release filled her.
He stayed inside her, their bodies clinging as if parting was unthinkable. Each heartbeat, each breath, tethered him more tightly to her.
He wrapped his arms around her, his hand resting over her thundering heart like a guard. He continued to press tiny kisses to her hair and shoulder as she drifted to sleep against his chest, her breathing even and steady.
When he withdrew, still shuddering, he cleaned them both with quiet tenderness before curling back around her. She didn’t wake.
His hand tenderly cupped her bare breast. Only then, with her soft and warm in his arms, did the restless beast inside him finally go still.