Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I melt into him so easily it’s borderline embarrassing, but I have a craving for approval only he can satisfy. “I want to be good to you.”
“You will be. I know it.” Dalton’s all the warmth I need. He kisses my temple like I’m some fragile thing made of ice, not a ruthless cog in the Van der Horn machine.
I don’t get to sizzle in his affection for as long as I want to, because several of our security people pour into the yard. “What’s the situation, Mr. Van der Horn?” one of them asks.
Aspen gets up with a groan. “I said I had it under control!”
Another bodyguard clears his throat. “Apologies, but we have instructions from your father.”
Dalton whispers into my ear. “Let’s go get married.”
Just like that, the stress and fatigue I’ve been experiencing dissolves in the dense happiness of having him with me. For a moment, I consider making a beeline to the bathroom, so he can clean his face at least, but why bother, when he looks so sexy painted in blood?
“Let’s go get married.”
Epilogue
Dalton
Christmas Day, one year later
A visit to the Van der Horn mansion is a very different affair when you come as a guest instead of having to sleep in a small, cold room in the basement. The place looks freakishly similar to the old aristocratic homes we visited during mine and Corvus’s honeymoon in Europe, only there are TVs, and some of the portraits hanging on the walls feature the people I’ve had Christmas breakfast with.
Oh, and instead of using a thin mattress on the floor, I’ve been sleeping in a canopied bed. With my husband.
How crazy is that?
Despite all the joy of getting married to someone as amazing as Corvus, dark thoughts kept telling me he’s going to see all my faults just like all the men before him, but a year on he’s still sleeping in my bed. Still laughing at my jokes. Still shaking with the thrill of my touch.
Maybe I’ve simply needed to find the right person all along.
We usually have our morning coffee on the balcony, then jog in the park, and pick up breakfast on the way back, and we try to stick to that routine even when we travel for work. Yes, we, because now that I’ve graduated from an advanced training program supplying the security of the important and wealthy, I’m officially my husband’s bodyguard.
Having to be away from him for weeks was more difficult than I could have imagined, but it was all worth it, because even Karl Van der Horn can’t now imply I’m not qualified for the job.
And while being rich is definitely a perk of both my job and relationship, I’d have Corvus in my tiny studio too, because he cares for me and respects me in ways I’ve never before experienced. He never implies I’m too dense to understand something, never belittles me, and tells me secrets he probably shouldn’t. We have trust in one another, and I’m determined to always prove it to him that I’m worthy of the attention he bestows on me.
In the morning, we spent time with the whole family, including kids, sharing little presents, but now that we’re back in the giant room we call home while we’re here, we can exchange more personal gifts. Corvus insisted on me changing quickly, since we don’t have that much time until the Christmas hunt, which makes me worry a little whether he forgot about gifts altogether.
We went on a shopping spree before arriving here, and we treated ourselves to several things like clothes, snow boots and the like, so maybe he hadn’t considered anything more. In that case, I’ll keep my gift secret until his birthday, to not make him feel awkward.
“Ready?” I yell, because he’s in the walk-in closet, and how long can a man choose a sweater? On the other hand, I do love to see him all sharp and polished, so I shouldn’t be complaining.
“So impatient,” he says, emerging with a huge package wrapped in green paper. “Merry Christmas. Sorry, the store wrapped it all wrong, so I needed… to amend their mistake,” he says, offering me the box.
I beam at him, on my feet in no time. I feel like a kid in a way I never got to experience before Corvus. I never had fun Christmases or received thoughtful gifts. Not only is he my dream come true, but also shows me that I’m worth caring for, that I don’t have to carry it all on my shoulders.
“And Merry Christmas to you, husband!” I grab my own gift first since it’s just an envelope, but we still have a bit of a dance to exchange presents. “What is it?” I ask even though I’ll be unpacking it within seconds. I’m that excited, but so is he, so I tell him to see what I got him first.