Текст книги "Transcending Darkness"

Автор книги: Airicka Phoenix

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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 36 страниц)

Chapter 16

Before her parents had died and their house had been homey and furnished with nice things, Juliette had never had qualms about inviting people over; her mother had made the place like something out of a fancy catalogue. After having to sell the really nice stuff and replace some of it with ratty, used items, it looked more like a rundown crack house. At least in Juliette’s opinion. Most of the rooms were bare and layered in dust while the rest held furniture no one ever wanted to sit on. It was a far cry from the extravagance of Killian’s manor. Yet she could find no way to discourage him from crossing into her dark, dank world without coming off as insane, or worse, embarrassed, which she was. To herself, she could fully admit that she was devastatingly ashamed of her home, the place she’d grown up in, the place she’d fought like hell to keep.

Neither of them spoke as they hurtled through the city in the backseat of the black SUV with Melton and Frank sitting like mute statues in the front. Occasionally, she’d see Melton’s arm turn as he twisted the wheel, but he was rigid otherwise. Jake had squished himself into the seat on Juliette’s other side, forcing her between him and Killian. The latter she didn’t mind so much, but her new companions were a different story. Neither had said a word to her since appearing on her doorstep to replace John and Tyson. They’d introduced themselves and told her they would be taking over, but that was all.

She missed John and Tyson. They hadn’t been friendly or chatty, but she had grown fond of them in the three months they’d been together.

A sigh escaped her and she turned her head to stare out the window. The world was a muted blur behind the tint. Shops glinted and people roamed the sidewalks even as night packed around them. The sun had gone down several hours earlier, making the time appear much later than it was. Overhead, a thick overcast curdled across the heavens, threatening snow. Juliette inwardly cringed.

“There is an event I would like you to attend with me.” Killian’s voice drew her away from the depression weaving its way around her. “It’s a Christmas party of sorts.”

Juliette’s eyebrows swung up. “Christmas party in November?” She considered it a moment. “I suppose that makes sense. Most of the days in December would be taken.”

“No, the party isn’t until the second week of December, but I know how you are with surprises and parties if you’re not given proper notice.”

She grimaced. “I still owe you for that, don’t I?”

He made a quiet humming sound. “You can make it to me by wearing your new dress to this event.”

“All right. You’ll have to give me the date and time.”

They pulled up in the driveway of her home. Unlike the others around it, hers sat dark and foreboding. A few of her neighbors had already hung their Christmas lights or at the very most, had their porch lit. The blinds were drawn over all her windows and no one had bothered with the porch light. Already the place made her cringe. Her stomach muscles tightened in dread as Jake held open her door. She managed a weak thank you as she slid out and made her way up the cracked walkway. Behind her, she was painfully aware of Killian’s quiet presence.

They climbed up the steps together, but made it as far as the front door when it was jerked open by Laurence. He bowed his head to Killian before stepping aside to let them in.

The dining room with the sleeping cots sat in absolute darkness. On the other side of the foyer, the living room was lit solely by a single lamp that illuminated the lumpy sofa and faded wallpaper. Down the hall, the kitchen glowed the brightest. She went there.

“You’ve got to work it with your knuckles,” Mrs. Tompkins was saying when Juliette stepped onto the threshold. “Really get in there.”

The scene took Juliette a moment to figure out. For one, she couldn’t fathom how the entire place could smell like warm, freshly baked bread and a donkey’s ass, if said donkey’s ass was made of burnt bread. For another, Vi was shoulder to shoulder with the older woman, sweater sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she pounded into a ball of slightly dry dough. Her forearms were caked in flour, as was her face, her hair and most of the kitchen. But she looked like she was having the time of her life.

“What’s going on here?” Juliette wondered out loud as she braved a few more steps closer.

In the corner of the room, rigid and watchful, Phil caught her eye briefly and gave her the slightest of nods that she returned with a half-smile before focusing on the pair at the island again.

“I’m learning to make one of those knotted French breads,” Vi declared, holding up her clump of dough. “I nearly made one earlier, but … there was an accident.”

Juliette glanced over at the chunk of crispy, black steaming on a rack on the counter by the sink.

“I see…” she mumbled. “I didn’t realize you wanted to learn to bake.”

“Oh, I don’t.” Vi laughed. “It’s hard and messy.” She smacked the dough down and smashed it with one fist. “But I get to beat on it so that kind of makes up for it.”

Mrs. Tompkins chuckled. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a natural.”

Juliette opened her mouth when a movement behind her reminded her that she had company.

Quickly, she stepped aside so Killian could step into the mess.

“Uh, Vi, Mrs. Tompkins, this is Killian McClary.”

Vi’s head shot up much faster than Mrs. Tompkins, who seemed unconcerned by yet another new person in their normally empty house.

She offered Killian a small, kind smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” was all she said to him, before turning her attention to Vi once more. “Add some water to your dough.”

Vi wasn’t listening. She was staring with wide eyed interest at Killian.

“You’re Killian,” she blurted, with the glimmer of a cat having finally spotted the elusive mouse. “Well, you’re much better looking than I’d imagined.”

“Vi!” Horrified, Juliette gawked at her sister’s unabashed greeting.

“Thank you,” Killian said with just a hint of amusement.

Vi nodded. “I always thought Columbian drug lords had greasy black hair and pockmarked skin and tattoos. But you are much better.”

In the corner, Phil shifted and Vi’s gaze darted to him before snapping back to Killian, who was biting his lip so hard Juliette was afraid he’d tear a hole in it.

“Crap, was that rude?” Vi hissed through her teeth. “I’m working on my filter. Sometimes I forget.”

Killian burst out laughing. The sound was a rolling rumble that echoed through the house in waves. It coursed over Juliette in a warm caress that left her skin tingling.

“Killian isn’t Columbian,” Juliette murmured, biting back her own laughter as it bubbled up her chest. “He’s Irish and he’s not a drug lord … are you?”

Killian shook his head, still grinning broadly. “No.”

“Ah!” Vi said like that made much more sense. “That explains it then. Irish guys are stupid hot.” She grabbed a box of yeast and shoved it towards Killian. “Read this.”

It was a task not to face palm.

Killian took the box, but set it down carefully. His eyes shone with silent laughter as he regarded Vi.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Viola.”

Vi’s jaw unhinged and a sort of hazy glaze crept across her eyes. “Wow … have you got a brother? Preferably younger.”

Juliette did face palm that time.

Killian chuckled. “Sorry. Just me.”

Vi exhaled, the sound full of dejected sorrow. “Figures. Suppose I’ll have to find my own gorgeous Irish guy. Wonder if I can order one online…”

“Water!” Mrs. Tompkins elbowed her and nudged the bowl of water closer with sticky, doughy fingers.

Vi shot her a glower before sprinkling a few drops over her flaking ball. She rubbed it in and kneaded the dough.

“Don’t understand why we have to keep watering the damn thing,” she muttered. “It’s not a bloody flower…” She paused and considered that a moment. “The growing kind of … oh, never mind.”

Juliette turned to Killian. “I’m sorry. I swear she’s not normally like that. At least, not since recently.”

Lips still quirked, Killian turned his head to her. “I like her.”

Juliette arched a brow. “You would. She all but licked your ego.”

“Mm,” he purred just loud enough for her to hear. “I prefer you licking it anyway.”

Her panties grew damp at the suggestive murmur that sent a ripple of heat working through her. Her cheeks warmed and she quickly averted her eyes before anyone else could notice.

“I should change,” she mumbled.

“I’ll come with you,” Killian decided, body already turning towards the doorway. “I’m curious about your room.”

“My … room?”

Juliette hurried after him. No one stopped them as they climbed the steps to the second floor. Juliette led the way down the dark, narrow hallway to the very least for at the end.

“This is it,” she murmured, reaching for the knob.

Killian plucked up one of the photos she’d pinned to the corkboard nailed to her door. They were old, as most of her photos were, but she kept them as a reminder that her life hadn’t always been a nightmare. That there had been a time when she’d been happy. It was a collage of her with her friends. There were a few of her with her parents and even a couple with Stan that, despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to toss. Around it were words she’d cut out of magazines and friendship bracelets she no longer wore. But Killian went straight for the picture of her standing between a group of four other girls. He took it off the board to examine better.

It had been one of the last trips she’d taken with the girls. They stood just outside the iron gate guarding his hill. Looking back on it, she was stunned to realize that all that time, he’d been just on the other side.

“I used to dream of owning a house up there,” she murmured. “My friends and I would drive up and pretend to house shop. We never went as far as the very top, but…”

Killian said nothing. He returned the photo and gave her a nod.

Gingerly, she pushed open the door and stepped inside with him at her heels.

“This is it,” she proclaimed with a wave of her arm.

This, was a four poster bed she’d begged her parents for for nearly six months. It was the matching end tables, dresser, and vanity and their crown molding edges and white paint. The bed took up most of the room, but she had still managed to shove a desk into one corner, a bookshelf in the other and a wooden chest sat at the foot. On the other side of the dresser, was the door to her own personal bathroom. As bedrooms went, it was every teenagers dream. But Juliette hadn’t been a teenage in years, nor had she had enough money to upgrade to something more … adult. Instead, she’d removed most of the girly pictures and posters and had tossed the stuffed animals she’d collected over the years. It no longer resembled a young girls room, but it wasn’t glaring.

Killian wandered to her bed and sat, making her thankful she tidied up that morning, like a part of her had been expecting his visit. There wasn’t a stray pair of pantries in sight.

“Tell me about your sister,” he said, surprising her.

“Vi? Why?”

“Well, you said that’s not normally how she is, so tell me what she’s normally like.”

The question was a reasonable one, maybe even expected, but Juliette had nothing. She stared at him while her mind raced with all the things she ought to know of her own sister, but didn’t. Vi was a stranger.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, ashamed. “I don’t know anything about her. I never wanted to.” Dropping her gaze, she walked over and claimed the spot next to him. Her shoulder bumped his as she studied the knotted fingers in her lap. “I was seven when she was born. I was the only girl on both sides of the family and I was spoiled rotten and I loved it. I never wanted a sister. In my mind, she took away all that love and attention that had been mine from the beginning. I hated her. That hate never went away, not even after Mom died. It just turned into a sort of selfish need to protect the only person I had left. I never took time to see if she was okay. I hadn’t cared that she’d lost her parents as well and was as alone as I was. I stuck her in school or with Mrs. Tompkins and considered my duties complete so long as she had food and a roof over her head.”

“You didn’t let Arlo have her,” Killian pointed out softly. “It would have made your job easier if you had.”

“No.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “No matter what, she’s still my sister. I would never have done that. I just abandoned and neglected her instead.” She drew in a breath. “We might never be friends, but I have to fix some of the damage I’ve caused. Right now, that seems to be Phil. He’s helped her way more than I’ve ever done. He didn’t chalk her up as hopeless and … she has changed so much in the last few months. I honestly don’t even recognize her anymore.” She fixed her eyes on the man sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. “I know he’s a bodyguard and this isn’t part of his job description, but she needs him.”

Prodding black eyes searched hers with a quiet contemplation. “She needs you, love. She needs her sister.”

“I don’t know how to be that.”

The bedsprings jingled with the shift of his weight as he reached over and lightly brushed the side of her face.

“You’ve got one of the kindest hearts I’ve seen in a long time, Juliette. You’ll figure it out.” He rose. “Get dressed. I’ll wait downstairs.”

He walked out and shut the door behind him. Juliette remained seated on her bed, thinking over what he’d said about Vi needing her and coming up empty; there was no way to right sixteen years of wrong. How could there be?

Heavy hearted, Juliette got to her feet and padded to her closet. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater. Both were tossed down on the bed when the door opened. She expected it to be Killian, but Vi poked her head in.

“You needed to see me?”

Juliette frowned. “I did?”

Vi walked in. “Killian said you needed help picking out something to wear.”

It wasn’t exactly spelled out, but she understood what Killian was telling her: no time like the present to mend bridges.

She offered Vi her best smile. Even then, it felt horribly tight.

“Yeah.” She motioned to the set she’d picked out. “What do you think?”

Vi frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Killian owns a club, Ice—”

“Shut up! Ice?” The look of pure elation on the girl’s face insisted she’d heard of the place. “I’ve been … I mean, I know a few people who have been dying to get in there!”

Juliette narrowed her eyes in amused disbelief. “Uh huh. So what do you think?”

“No! Definitely not. You need to look a lot sexier than that.”

“I’m not going there to party!” She laughed.

“Still. Have you seen some of the girls in there? Not that I have,” she added quickly. “But they are insanely hot. You need to make sure Killian only sees you.”

She had a point.

“All right.” Juliette stepped away from her closet. “What do you suggest?”

Vi laughed like that question was just adorable. “Absolutely nothing from your closet.”

“Hey!”

Still grinning, Vi turned and headed for the door. “Come on,” she said as she stepped into the hallway.

Juliette hesitated, not because she didn’t want the help, but because following meant she was admitting that her clothes were not cool, which, granted, was true, but it still sucked, especially when she used to have such kickass taste once upon a time. The blow to her ego was astronomical.

Nevertheless, grudgingly, she shuffled after the other girl. Phil stood in the hallway, back against the wall, hands clasped in front of him. He glanced sideways at Juliette when she stepped into view. The look said very clearly not to try anything stupid … a second time.

“At ease,” Juliette muttered. “Just on my way to get the rest of my self-esteem destroyed.”

Phil said nothing, but his mouth twitched a notch in a way that did nothing to ease her mood, but he went back to watching Vi’s open door.

The girl in question stood buried to the waist in her closet. Random bits of clothing kept flying over her shoulder in arcs of color before creating pretty puddles across the floor. She seemed to be muttering to herself as she did it.

Several minutes passed before she finally emerged, arms laden by a pile of fabric. Unlike Juliette’s closet that consisted of a handful of items, Vi’s was overflowing, practically bursting at the seams. Most of it stuff Juliette had never seen, which always made her particularly uncomfortable.

Vi had been getting a weekly allowance of twenty dollars since she’d been twelve. That was hardly enough to buy a top, but it was all Juliette could afford to give her at the time. Yet she always managed to come home with new things.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” she asked as Vi dumped the items down on the bed.

“Places,” was the vague response. “Here and there.” She lifted a slinky tube dress in soft, navy blue that looked more like a headband. “Try this one on.”

But Juliette wasn’t ready to drop that matter.

“Vi…”

“Do you really want to know?” Vi rounded on her, hands going to her waists. “Really?”

That was the question. Part of her already felt like she knew, but did she really want validation?

“Don’t do it anymore,” she said instead. “I’ll raise your allowance.”

Vi narrowed her eyes. Her head bent to the side and she regarded Juliette quizzically.

“How much?”

Reaching out, Juliette took the dress. “Just promise me.”

Vi shrugged. “All right.”

Dress in hand, she turned and shut the door before undressing. She hopped and wiggled into the dress. The material was tight and clung to everything. It stopped just over the swell of her breasts, but barely. It felt more like it was clinging to her nipples to stay up. The hem rode up her thighs, giving barely any room for movement.

“Not sure about this one,” Juliette voiced.

“Yeah, me neither.” Vi thrust out a white dress. “Here. Try this one.”

The white dress was no better. Neither was the green dress or the red dress or the purple dress. They all joined the small pile on the floor.

“All right, last one.” Vi exhaled loudly. “If this doesn’t work, we start on pants.”

The cute black off the shoulder number worked. It molded over the hills and dips of her body like it had been painted on, but it was sexy as hell. Full sleeves ran down her arms and the hem stopped just below the curves of her ass. Vi added a pair of red heels much higher than any Juliette had worn in ages and a thin, red belt.

“That should do it.” Vi stepped back to examine her handiwork. “Now for your hair and face.”

“Vi.” Juliette took her arm before she could hurry away. “Thank you.”

Vi faltered. She looked from Juliette to the hand on her arm and Juliette quickly let go. Vi straightened. She scratched the back of her head as she turned away.

“Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled, making her way through the jungle of discarded clothes to the vanity tucked away under a mountain of makeup, hats, scarves and a pink feathered boa. “Let’s finish you up, eh?”

Saying nothing else, Juliette let her hair get brushed, twisted, and pinned at the top of her head by a single strand Vi pulled away from her face. The rest was left around her shoulders. The makeup, Juliette did herself. She wasn’t completely useless and still remembered how to apply the right amount of everything to make her face smooth and her eyes enormous. She added clear gloss to her lips and turned to her sister.

“Well?”

Vi nodded approvingly. “Nice. So, you’re done.”

She started to thank her again, but stopped herself. The first time had been awkward enough. But she smiled and headed for the door.

Phil was still standing there when she emerged. She offered him a half grin before making her way carefully down the stairs; it had been a damn long time since she’d worn heels that high. Halfway, she stopped and turned back, kicking herself for not having asked if she could help straighten some of the mess made on her behalf.

Phil was gone, she noted with some surprise. Vi’s door was still open and she assumed he’d gone in to help her tidy up.

“She said she’d raise my allowance,” Juliette heard Vi say softly. “I just have to stop five fingering my wardrobe.”

There was a hint of self-deprecation in the remark.

“I warned you about that,” Phil reminded her calmly. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vi grumbled.

“I know it’s not what you wanted, but it’s a small step in the right direction,” Phil encouraged softly. “Don’t give up.”

“I don’t know why I have to bother.” Something thumped across the room. “This isn’t going to work.”

“It will. You need to be patient and—”

“Persistent. Yeah, I know. But it’s so … weird. I’m not used to being … nice.”

“Remember what not being nice got you?”

Vi exhaled. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Patience and—”

“If you say persistence, I will hit you.”

Juliette turned away. She had no idea what they were talking about, but whatever it was, she would corner Phil about it later. Juliette was too tired for games and if there was something Vi needed, one of them needed to tell her. But later. Already an hour had passed and she had made Killian wait long enough.

Javier glanced up from his post at the table by the window when she hit the bottom landing. She offered him a nod before making her way towards the kitchen and the steady flow of chatter weaving through the corridor. Her heels clicked a bit too loudly in the rumbling emptiness of the place, sounding like firecrackers going off. But she made her way to the doorway and paused.

Her tiny kitchen was packed with people. Mrs. Tompkins and Killian stood at the island, chatting on like old friends while Killian’s armed forces stood in various spots around them, guarding without looking like they were guarding. All heads lifted when she stepped over the threshold. The men looked away just as quickly.

Killian didn’t.

He glanced back over his shoulder and faltered mid speech. The lines of his shoulders tightened even as he straightened. Eyes the infinite black of the night sky bore into her and carved deep grooves along every curve. She felt the weight of his desire wash over her like the slow rise of dawn creeping across the bed in the morning. It singed every inch of her.

“Apparently I have to make sure you don’t look at other women while we’re there,” she told him with a teasing quirk of her mouth.

Amusement shimmered across the inky surface of his eyes. “Would it put your mind at ease if I assured you I haven’t noticed another woman since you?”

It was funny, but the thought of Killian looking at other women had never bothered her. She hadn’t even thought about it until Vi had pointed it out. Maybe it was because it had been stated in the contract that neither of them would see other people in their twelve months together or maybe because he had never given her a reason to worry, but … she hadn’t. Oddly enough, she still wasn’t worried. Nevertheless, his words sent a warm shiver through her.

“That so?”

“Aye, love.” He crossed towards her in three long strides and stopped when he was close enough to lower his head and capture her mouth in a deep, toe curling kiss. She was breathless when he released her. “But you might want to bring a second dress.”

The low growl against her ear rippled down her spine in rivulets of fire to burn in her belly. Her nipples hardened to sharp points that strained through the material of her dress. His gaze lingered on them before trailing back up to meet hers, darker, if possible. That simple gesture rocked through her as powerfully as though he’d reached out and stroked them.

“You … you said you had work,” she whispered.

Four deft fingers whispered feather light up the curve of her side. They moved to spread across the small of her back and bow her into him. Unbalanced by the motion and her heels, she hit his chest a bit harder than was necessary. Her hands flew to his shoulders. But he caught her easily.

“You ought to know how good I am at multitasking,” he drawled lazily into her ear.

Her face heated up, but it was nothing compared to the spike in her temperature. Her entire body burst with an explosion of warmth triggered by the mere memories alone. She shifted as the hot rush of arousal trickled down the inside of her legs.

Killian eyed her questioningly when she mashed her lips together and grimaced with embarrassment.

“I’m … I’m not wearing panties,” she confessed in a whisper that was no more than the stiff movement of her lips. “The dress doesn’t…” She broke off when his hands snaked down the curves of her hips, fingers dragging, possibly in search of elastic under the fabric. “It’s too tight,” she finished breathlessly once his palms had settled firmly over her backside.

“Christ, woman!” he snarled low under his breath.

Legs unstable, she tugged herself out of his bruising grip. “I have to make a quick bathroom run, but I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”

He didn’t say a word, but the look he gave her … oh, the look raged with an inferno so wild she felt the flames lick strips off her skin. Lightheaded, she staggered back a step. Then another until she had extracted herself from his heat. She made a weaving path down the hall in the direction of the powder room. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Vi and Phil making their way downstairs. Laurence had joined Javier at the bay window. But no one paid her any attention as she slipped into the washroom and began to shut the door behind her only to have it fly out of her grasp. Another figure ducked in after her and closed them in with a resounding snick of the locks latching into place.

“Killian?”

His hands went to the fastens on his pants.

“We can’t.” She backed into the counter, not to escape, exactly, but to brace herself. “You’re injured.”

“I could be on my deathbed and I’d still fuck you,” he panted, shoving his trousers down around his ankles.

The belt jingled loudly in the cramped space. It was followed by the snap of rubber as the condom went on down the hard length of his cock. His hands were on her then, grabbing her and lifting her. The cold marble came up against the bare skin of her backside as her skirt was bunched up around her waist. Bruising hands gripped her hips and she was yanked to the very edge. Juliette was given no time to react, not even to gasp when his mouth slammed down over hers, hot, hungry, and violent.

He pushed inside her with more gentleness than she knew he normally would have displayed. Their mutual sounds of satisfaction pulsed through the room as their bodies met in that beautifully perfect way. Juliette clutched him tight as he moved inside her in smooth, fluid strokes, hitting every nerve with brutal accuracy. Her fingers gouged into his shoulders, biting in deep as the world rocked beneath her. She came into the side of his neck with a cry of his name. He shuddered a split second after with a murmur of something in a language she didn’t understand, but it sounded dark and possessive. He stayed buried inside her, even when he raised his head and peered down into her face. The beast continued to prowl just behind his eyes, still hungry, but temporarily sated.

Carefully, he pulled out, eliciting a whimper from her and a groan from him as the sensitive walls of her sex clutched at him, not wanting him to leave.

“I hate when you pull out,” she whispered.

“Like me better deep inside you, do you?” he teased.

Juliette never wavered. “Yes.”

The grin slipped into that predatory glint he got just before he ravaged the shit out of her. His fingers locked in her hair. He dragged her head back as far as it would go as he leaned in to nip hard on her bottom lip.

Juliette whined in delicious pain.

“Leave with me,” he growled, running the tip of his tongue over the spot he’d assaulted.

Ready for him all over again, Juliette could only manage a weak, “Where?”

“I don’t care.” One hand slipped down to smooth over the fresh puddle filling over her opening. “Anywhere. Just name it.”

Lost in the flick of his fingers, Juliette was barely listening. “Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

She opened her eyes and peered up into his face mere inches from hers. “Can Vi and Mrs. Tompkins come?”

Two fingers worked deep inside her, replacing the loss of his cock, but barely. She still preferred him balls deep in her channel. Nevertheless, his fingers knew how to do that rubbing thing that made the top of her skull blow off.

“If you like.”

“Rome,” she decided, just for the hell of it. “I’ve always wanted to go. Or Venice.”

“Both then,” he offered, finding that magical spot that had her whining and begging. “All of Europe if you want.”

She was no longer listening. With a tortured sob she could barely contain behind her teeth, she came, thrashing and rocking against his palm until the very last tremor. Satisfied, she slumped back against the mirror and shut her eyes, her body exhausted and so still buzzing. Between her thighs, Killian gingerly removed his fingers. Her eyes opened and she studied him through her lashes, a teasing grin curling her mouth.

“I had this weird mid orgasm dream where you said you wanted to go across Europe.”

He chuckled as he moved to the toilet and discarded the condom. He leaned down and tugged his trousers back up. Once properly fastened, he reached for her. She allowed herself to be lowered to the ground. Her dress was smoothed back into place.

“I meant it.”

Her eyes widened. “All of Europe? That could take months!”

He shrugged. “I have time.”

A tour of Europe. It would be the greatest adventure she’d ever had. It would be the furthest she’d ever gone.

“Really?”

He nodded. “We can leave whenever you want.”

A high pitch shriek escaped her as she flung herself into his arms. She pulled back a second later, happy mood momentarily overshadowed by doubt.

“What about work? Yours and mine? And Vi has school—”

He silenced her with a gentle finger against her lips. “Tell me when and I’ll make it happen.”

Woozy with excitement, Juliette beamed up at him. Her fingers tightened in the taut skin along the back of his neck as she pulled him close.

I love you!

The three little words came out of nowhere. They socked her square in the chest with the force of a steel studded fist. All the warmth drained out of her in a single swoop, taking along with it the blood from her face. Her eyes went enormous against the sudden pallor and he caught her when she swayed.