He shook Tam's hand, and Gea gave her a quick hug. “Good luck.”
She'd need it. “Thank you.”
The wind picked up Gea's hair and she pushed it out of her face. “Tell Breck I'll call him in the morning with a full report.”
Kienan caught his mate's hand. “Quill is waiting.”
“Mr. Breckenridge is in his room. Why don't you go up?” Mrs. Hadley waved a hand around at the luggage. “I'll see to this and get Miss Sophie settled for the evening.”
“But I want to see Breck.” Sophie danced in place, beside herself with excitement.
“In the morning, dear. Let your sister talk to him, all right?” Mrs. Hadley took the girl's hand. “Do you like cinnacherry cookies? We have some in the food storage unit.”
“For me?” Sophie glanced at Tam. “You'll say hello to Breck for me and tell him I'll see him as soon as I wake up?”
She bent and gave her sister a hug and kiss. “I'll make sure he knows. Good night, darling. Be good for Mrs. Hadley.”
Watching them wander toward the kitchen did nothing to help Tam with her love life, but she stood there trying to gather her nerve anyway. Breck was here. Only a curving staircase away. She turned and looked up the elegant marble stairs. Breck had once told her he used to slide down the banister as a boy. This was where he'd grown up. It was nothing like
her
childhood home, but so what? Was she going to let that stand between her and the life she truly wanted?
No.
With that, she pushed herself forward, following the irresistible scent of him that beckoned her up those steps and down the hall to the double doors that led to his suite of rooms. She set her hand to the smooth wood, but heard no movements beyond. He was asleep. Was that good or bad?
She tried the knob and found it unlocked. Pushing the door inward, she saw he'd fallen asleep working, propped up in bed, a palmtop computer resting on his chest. He wore only a pair of microsilk sleep pants, his blond hair tussled. She pulled the door closed behind her and leaned back against it, letting herself take in the sight of him for a moment. Her heart squeezed tight. Please. Please let her be able to convince him to give her another chance.
“Breck,” she whispered.
He stirred but didn't wake. His palmtop slid off his chest and fell to the mattress, teetering as if it might slip from the bed and hit the floor. She darted forward and caught it, setting it on the bedside table.
Deus, he was close enough to touch now. Her hands itched with the need to do just that. If this were any other time, or any other man, she'd strip naked, climb into bed with him, and awaken him with her hands and mouth on very intimate parts of his body. She'd seduce him. And despite what Hunter and Delilah had said, she couldn't do that. Not this time. She didn't want it like that with Breck. This was her mate, and she wanted him to choose to be with her, not be seduced into it.
She sat down on the edge of the bedâa bed they'd shared so many times beforeâher hip brushing his. “Breck, my mate. Wake up.”
His eyes cracked open, and he drew in a sharp breath. Then his gaze flew to her. “Tam?”
“Yes, I'm here.” She smiled at him, though her insides quaked with trepidation.
He jerked upright in bed, his hand shooting out to grasp her chin. “This isn't a dream.”
“No, this is very real.” More real than anything she'd ever done with any man before.
“What are you doing here?” He dropped his hand as if touching her had scalded him. “Aren't you supposed to be off dumping Sophie back into boarding school?”
“No, we went to Switzerland to collect all the things her father made her leave behind, and to give her a chance to say her farewells.” She drew in a breath. “She and I talked about it and we've decided we want to live here in New Chicago. With you.”
His big body went rigid, his blue eyes growing shuttered. His voice dropped to a harsh rasp. “Don't do this to me, Tam. Not again. I can't have you in my life and then watch you walk away when it gets too intense. I won't survive it.”
Tears burned her eyes, and she dragged in a ragged breath. “I'm not going anywhere. You said I deserved to be happy, and that you wanted me to believe I was worthy of what I wanted most. Well, you were right. About everything. I tarred myself with the same brush as Stefan for so long that I couldn't see past what he'd made me.”
“And now you can?” His expression was dubious. “Because he's dead?”
“No.” She twined her fingers together in her lap, trying to hold herself together and not fumble over the words. She wanted to get this right. “Because of what you said. Because I couldn't get it out of my head. Because I looked at Stefan at the Abernathys' ball, and it hit me how I had always thought the two of us hid the badness inside behind fancy clothes and a charming smile.” Tears threatened to fall again, and her voice shook a bit. “I thought I
was
what he'd turned me into. Someone awful, like him. And I hated that. I hated that I'd let him mold me into someone I couldn't face in the mirror. I know that I just did what I had to to survive, but it shamed me. All these years, every day, I was ashamed of myself. I couldn't save myself from him as a child, and I thought it was all my fault. So I deserved what I got, since I was bad like him.”
He made a rough sound and moved to reach for her, but then stopped himself.
She pushed onward with her explanation. “So it struck me then, how right you were about all of it. And . . . and . . . I'm not like him. I was
never
like him. He's evil. He
was
evil. Past tense,” she corrected. “Clearly, I have a conscience, even if it's a little underused and overly flexible in the legality department.”
His huff of laughter gave her the courage to continue.
“I called Delilah for help because I was going to try to give the fake jewels to Stefan while she gave the real ones back to the queen. I wasn't really going to steal them. I wasn't going to let Stefan get his way, because I wanted better
for myself
than he had planned. Because I deserved better.” She gave him a smile that wobbled. “Because even if I grew up on the docks, I deserve to have the kind of life I wanted for Sophie. Because even if I've done some bad things in my life, I'm not a bad person, and I deserve to have a mate as wonderful as you. You said so, and it took me a long time to get there, but I believe you now. I believe in
us,
and I want to stick around and see if I can make a relationship work. I want to see if I can be part of a real family.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs, and she waited an eternity for him to respond. Perhaps she'd hurt him too much, pushed him away too many times for him to trust her change of heart. Perhaps it was too late. Her fingers twisted together so tight they ached.
His eyes closed, and she heard him swallow hard. He shook his head, and her hope crumpled. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I love you, Breck. I . . .”
But what more could she say? That she was sorry she'd hurt him? That she wished she could have spared him? It wasn't enough. She knew it wasn't.
“How do I know you won't leave again?” The question was soft, and that very softness made it sting all the more. His eyes opened, and she saw the suffering, the doubt.
She pressed her lips together until she knew she wouldn't sob. “I never
wanted
to leave you at all. Not the night you found me at Tail, not when Stefan shot me. I always wanted to stay. I just didn't think I could or should.”
“You threw yourself in front of a bullet.” Guilt and shame filled his blue gaze, and that pained her, too. That he thought she loathed herself so much she'd commit suicide. Not that long ago, he might not even have been wrong. She'd been unhappy for a very long time. Dissatisfied. The thrill had gone out of conning people. Once, that had been her only power in a world that Stefan ruled, so she'd found pleasure in what she could control. But that was an empty pleasure that had stolen her soul, little by little. No more. She wanted a different life. And she wanted to share it with her mate.
“Yes, I threw myself in front of a bullet. And I would do it again. For you or Sophie, I would. Not because I don't value my life, but because I would do anything to keep the people I love safe and happy. You're the best things in my life, the best part of
me.
” She met his gaze steadily, dared him to contradict her. “Wouldn't you do the same for the people you love? Risk your life and possibly die to keep us safe?”
He shook his head, turmoil in his expression. “Yes, but . . . you . . .”
Tilting her head, she arched an eyebrow. “I'm not supposed to love you as much as you love me?”
His jaw hardened. “
I'm
supposed to protect
you.
”
A breathy laugh escaped her. “You saved me from myself, Breck. That's a far more difficult thing. I'll always be grateful to you for it, and for staying with me and believing in me when I couldn't. I love you.”
His hand rose to touch her face, but he hesitated. She caught his fingers, kissed his palm, and cupped his hand against her jaw. When he stroked his thumb along her cheekbone, she purred. It was so good to have him pet her. She'd longed for it during the days of her recovery. She'd longed to have him near.
“Be sure, Tam.” His throat worked. “I couldn't bear it if you changed your mind.”
She leaned into his touch, rubbing her cheek against his palm. “I'm not sure about a lot of things, Breck. What I'm going to do with my life now that I'm not a grifter, whether or not I'll be any good at raising Sophie, but I'm absolutely certain that I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I never, ever want to leave you again.”
His arms wrapped around her, dragging her down so she was pressed against every micrometer of him. She clung to him, relief making her so giddy she almost giggled. He squeezed her tight enough that she couldn't breathe, and it was just right.
“I missed you so damn much,” he whispered in her ear. “I hated that you might have died because of
me.
I tried to tell myself I'd be fine without you, that you didn't want me and I couldn't force you to stay with me, but I fucking
missed
you every single second.”
She pressed her hands against his chest, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “I missed you, too. I hated that I couldn't come to you right away, that I had to wait until the medics said I could travel. But I was also bloody terrified you'd tell me it was too late to make amends.”
As an answer, he kissed her. It was hot and sweet and utterly perfect.
She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, scraping it with her teeth. He growled, his hands tugging at her clothes. Anticipation wound tight within her, the undeniable heat she felt whenever he was near. Now, she could revel in it. She didn't have to fight against what she wanted. She could keep it. The thought alone was enough to send desire shooting through her.
It was freeing.
She plunged her tongue into his mouth, wanting to lock the taste of him in forever, knowing this was a moment she'd never forget. Sliding her hands into his hair, she writhed against his hard length, loved the feel of his cock prodding the apex of her thighs. She parted her legs, bracing her knees against the mattress so that his erection could rub her where it would do the most good. His pants and hers frustrated her, but she rolled her hips against his, letting the excitement build to a fever pitch. Her pussy was slick with juices, and every pass of his thick cock over her clit drove her wilder.
A gasp escaped her when he flipped her over onto her back. Lust tightened his features, and a flush ran beneath his skin. He stripped her out of her clothes, his gaze burning in intensity when it touched every millimeter of her skin. She let her thighs fall open so he could see how wet he'd made her, how much she wanted him. He shucked his pants, and then they were both nude. His cock was a sharp upward curve, and she wanted to slide her tongue from base to crown and suck him hard. She reached out to run her fingers down the length of him, but he caught her hands and pressed them to the mattress on either side of her head.
He flashed his naughtiest smile. “You know what I want now.”
Yes, she did. He wanted to handcuff her to the bed the way he had so many times before. His headboard was solid wood around the edges, with a basketweaving of wood and mercurite strips in the middle. At the bottom of the headboard was a bar of gleaming mercurite, which Breck had bound her hands to more than once. Probably not the function the bed's designer had had in mind, but it served the purpose so well. “You don't have to tie me down, Breck. I'm not going anywhere.”
“I know,” he said simply, and that faith meant so much more to her than he could ever understand. How many people had ever trusted her to keep her word and do the
right
thing? Breck and Sophie. That was probably it. He bent forward and nipped at the curve of her stomach. “But I
want
to tie you up. Because it's fun, and we both enjoy it.”