Page 95 of Redeem Me

Bright light penetrates the cracks on either side of the blinds, but no amount of sunshine spilling across the floor could fully eradicate the darkness of last night’s conversation. It plays through my mind like a movie. In the light of day, it feels like it had to be a dream, but acid eating at the lining of my stomach assures me it wasn’t.

While I don’tthinkthe man I love is capable of murder, I can’t rule it out. All I can do is trust that Caelon will respect my feelings on the horrendous situation, trust that he won’t give me up and trust that the prospect of a future together is enough of an incentive to keep his past from destroying him. From destroying us both.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and soak in my surroundings. Caelon’s room is nothing like I imagined. I’d expected it to be dark and masculine, but it’s decorated in cool shades of silver and sage.

He stirs as I untangle myself from his arms and takes his hands in mine.

‘Good morning, Tortured,’ I whisper, kissing his neck and inhaling his scent.

‘I’d be far less tortured if you didn’t have to sneak out,’ he grumbles, interlinking his fingers with mine and squeezing.

‘The kids have been through enough. They don’t need to see us together yet.’ Owen’s only just accepted me. I don’t want to undo all the good work by confusing him when this is still so new.

‘I know, I know,’ he sighs, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He’s so gorgeously docile. It’s hard to believe I’m looking at the same man who was threatening murder last night.

He arches up, resting his weight on one elbow, hand flat on top of the Egyptian cotton duvet. A beam of sunlight blazes a trail across his bare, muscular chest and the curve of his bicep, illuminating the masculine veins on his forearm and the platinum ring on his finger.

‘Are you okay?’ He cocks his head.

Translation – Areweokay?

‘Yes,’ I say, though the word doesn’t come out as convincingly as I intended. ‘I’ll see you for breakfast in a couple of hours.’ I back away from the bed and tiptoe out of the room. Roxy is snoring softly at the top of the staircase. Her ears prick as I approach. The soft thwack of her tail beats against the floorboards. Someone’s happy to see me.

‘Come on.’ I beckon her downstairs with me, towards the kitchen, and out the back door. The early morning sun does little to take the chill from my bones.

Grabbing a coffee, I settle at the table with my Kindle, hoping my latest bad boy MMC will take my mind off the fact I have one of my own.

But it’s no good. Last night’s conversation won’t stop playing on repeat in my head. After all, it’s not everyday your boyfriend confesses to plotting murder.

I’m halfway through my second caffeine fix when the kids jolt down the stairs. Owen races ahead of Orla, that damned tatty teddy under his arm.

‘Ivy!’ Excitement taints his tone, and my heart warms. He’s progressed so far in a couple of months. ‘What are we doing today?’ he demands, his ebony hair mussed from sleep, his bright eyes full of wonder. He’s the image of his father.

Will my child look like that one day?

‘There’s no way in Hell I’m giving you up.’

Never in my life have I planned so much as a year ahead, but now I’m looking five, ten, fifteen years into the future, to a life with Caelon and his two adorable children. The Caelon who kissed me on the lips on the pier. The Caelon who surprises me with his underlying tenderness. The Caelon who took me to his bed last night and held me in his arms until we drifted into our dreams.

Not Caelon the crazed, revenge-seeking vigilante.

‘It’s Sunday, doofus.’ Orla climbs onto my lap. ‘It’s Ivy’s day off.’

‘Ah, what?’ Owen grumbles, tugging my elbow.

‘What do you want to do?’ I put my Kindle down to give him my full attention, brushing my fingers through his hair and meeting his gaze.

‘Swimming, ice cream, maybe the funfair.’ Hope hangs on his every word.

‘We’ll need to ask Daddy about that.’ I reposition Orla on my lap so her bony little butt isn’t digging into my thigh. ‘But I don’t mind if he doesn’t.’

‘Don’t you have a family of your own you’re supposed to visit?’ Orla peeps up at me from under long, dark lashes. She’s going to break a lot of hearts when she’s older.

Owen scoffs. ‘Ivy’s part of our family now,doofus,’ he says, throwing her insult back.

My blood heats as I realise how much I want it to be true. I want to be part of this family. To be Caelon’s wife. I want the ring he wears on his finger to be oneIput there.

‘I hope you stay forever,’ Orla whispers, snuggling into my chest.

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