Page 46 of Born Free

“Save it for a five-year anniversary present,” I say, smiling as his lips once again find their way back to mine.

His hands slide down over my bottom, and he gives a possessive squeeze, eliminating any air gaps between our bodies. “It’s a promise.”

This isn’t my real life. A healthy, exciting, equal relationship. A hopeful future. Real, true possibilities.

My life has been hard, every moment of it from the second I was born.

It isn’t easy now. There’s still real shit to deal with.

But I am so happy in this moment, I feel like death has to be seconds away because how could it get better than this?

But as I look into Roman’s eyes, I see that it can. I see those promises. I see that future.

I inhale deeply as I claim one last kiss, my eyes closing, capturing this moment in my heart forever. He squeezes once more, and then we release each other, save for one hand.

“Come on,” I say, regret spilling into my tone. “We can’t be late. Orlando has to be babysat every moment of this party.”

Roman gives an annoyed sound but follows right after me out the door, locking it behind us.

“I met with Jon today,” Roman says as we ride down the elevator. He braces a hand on the wall, one on either side of my head, boxing me in. Those blue eyes bore into me with such intensity, I’m pretty sure my panties are melting right off. “I asked for the third floor of the Nocturne. For just the two of us.”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. “Is that… is that your way of asking me to move in together?”

“I’m not messing around here, Juliet,” he says, his voice low, rough, raw. “I’m done. There’s no more search. No more doubt. No more questions. I’ve found you. I love you. And that’s a vow until death.”

Something takes hold of my soul right then. Roman has a way with words. Words that infuse themselves with every white blood cell in my body, every electric current that keeps me alive.

“When all this mess is sorted out, I’ll let Jay take the lead for a while. I’m going to build you anything you want on that third floor, Juliet. I’ll build us a home.”

The idea was already calling to my heart. But Roman creating it with his own bare hands?

It’s the hottest thing he’s ever said to me.

“Why the hell did it take me so long to see you?” I say as I shake my head and wrap my arms behind his neck, drawing his lips to mine. “You’re perfect.”

He deepens the kiss, and I feel all of his promises in every grip he has on my body. We’re done. No doubt. No messing around. No kid stuff.

We’re in this for forever.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. An old woman standing there gives an embarrassed squeak when she catches our intimate moment. Roman doesn’t blush, though. He simply takes my hand and strides out like it’s everyone in the world’s job to acknowledge what is between him and me.

The venue is a private club we rented out for the night. I’m not even sure who took care of the details, but it’s all been arranged. Roman and I are the first to arrive. We speak to the owner, who says it’s all paid up. Apparently, we’ve provided our own DJ and bartender, though the owner doesn’t seem too keen on it. But he leaves just a few minutes later with confirmation that we have the place to ourselves until three in the morning.

“I have a feeling this is going to be the longest night ever,” Elena says as she walks in, immediately followed by Jon. She looks just as much a siren as she ever does, wearing a long, shimmery dress that is so close to the color of her skin she nearly looks naked.

“At least we have an end in sight,” I say, keeping my tone quiet. Orlando could show up any moment, and the last thing I want is for him to get set off.

Several of Roman’s security team members walk through the door. I have no doubt they’ve got all kinds of weaponry attached to their bodies, ready to throw down if things get ugly tonight. Just a minute after, more people from Mason’s teams walk in. Tabitha and Patrick watch everything from the outskirts.

This is a game of trust, those we can trust in our city to keep things quiet and calm while trying not to look guilty to the House.

There are twenty or so of our own people already here when I hear the doors being pushed open, and Orlando’s loud voice fills the room.

“I looked you up,” he says. Mason is at his side, looking very uncomfortable and very annoyed at his company. “You’re worth more than half of the countries that surround mine.”

“We’ve been very fortunate,” Mason says, humble, but irritated.

“Come on, tell me what the real number is,” Orlando goads as his House members filter into the space, mixing with the city residents. “It was just an estimation online.”

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