Page 86 of Forbidden Sins

“Yes, princess,” he says firmly, checking the bed and then coming back to me to pick me up from the chair carefully. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised, remember?”

“You can’t shoot…germs.” I try to laugh, but it feels too difficult. My eyes slide closed, and I hear Sebastian murmur something that I don’t quite make out as he sets me down on the bed, tugging the covers over me. It’s far from the mostcomfortable bed I’ve ever slept in; even the roadside motel beds were better, but right now it feels amazing.

The last thing I feel before I drift off is the cool touch of a damp cloth on my forehead, and the last thing I hear is Sebastian’s voice, whispering my name.

—

I drift in and out of consciousness, caught in a fever dream where past and present blur together. Sometimes I'm back in my father's house, sometimes I'm in the car with Sebastian, sometimes I'm somewhere I've never been before—a beach house with white curtains billowing in a salt-scented breeze.

In every instance, I hear Sebastian’s voice. Sometimes he's talking to me, sometimes he's just talking—as if he needs to fill the silence, as if he's afraid that if he stops, I might slip away for good.

"...should have told you to stay in the car instead of hiding..."

"...hang on, princess, just hang on..."

"...never should have let you come with me..."

That’s what I cling to, all through the hot, feverish night. Sebastian's voice, close to my ear, raw with emotion, whispering words that could be real, or could be a dream.

"I love you, Estella. I said I fell in love with you that day I saw you painting in the sunroom, but the truth is that I've loved you from the first moment I saw you, and I was too much of a coward to admit it. I told myself it was just lust, just attraction, but it was always more. And now I might lose you before I ever really had you, and it would serve me right for being such a fool."

His voice is so full of yearning, so full of pain, that I want to reach for him and pull him close. I want to tell him that I feel the same way, that I think I loved him from the very start, too, butmy lips won't form the words. I feel his hand in mine, his lips against my forehead, and the cool cloth against my cheeks and neck, and then darkness claims me again.

When I wake up, the rain has stopped, and it’s afternoon out. I can see the light coming through the small gap in the curtains, and the cabin feels close and warm, which seems like a good sign. Last night I was freezing, despite the fire and blankets, and the fact that it couldn’t really have beenthatcold in the cabin, given the time of year.

“Sebastian?” I whisper his name, weakly, turning my head. My whole body hurts, still, and I feel like I’m drenched in sweat. I try to push back the covers, and Sebastian’s hand covers mine. I see him sitting up next to me, and I manage a small smile. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A little. I couldn’t help but drift off a few times,” he admits, as if he committed a crime. “But I stayed awake with you most of the night, dove.”

“You should have gotten some sleep,” I whisper. “You have to drive.”

“You could have died.” He reaches out, pushing a strand of hair away from my face. “I couldn’t really sleep, knowing that. I had to watch you.”

“What about now?” I lick my dry lips. “Can I have some water?”

Sebastian retrieves a bottle from the side table, helping me sit up. He touches my forehead and cheeks, and his hand doesn’t feel as cold as it did last night. “Small sips,” he says, as he hands the bottle to me.

“Your fever broke about an hour ago,” he continues. “I've been keeping you hydrated, cleaning your wound, trying to bring the fever down."

I look around the cabin, noticing for the first time the evidence of his care—the bowl of water by the bed, the open first-aid kit, the empty packets of painkillers.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“You wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for me,” he says grimly. “But,” he adds, before I can protest, “I know that’s neither here nor there now, princess. We made our choices, like you said. And you’re right. All the luxuries in the world can’t make up for a life with a man like Vito. I know that.”

There's something different in his gaze now, something open and unguarded that wasn't there before. I remember fragments of what he said during the night, when he thought I might not hear him.

"Did I dream it?" I ask softly. "Or did I hear you tell me that you’ve always loved me? That you can’t stand to lose me?"

Sebastian leans in, pressing a kiss to my sweat-drenched temple. “You know that already, I think,” he says softly. “But yes. I think I’ve loved you for longer than I could admit to myself, Estella. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. Maybe if I hadn’t fought it for so long, things would be different. Or maybe not.” He turns my face gently, kissing my lips so delicately that the touch feels like the softest brush of his skin. “Maybe things have turned out exactly the way they should, and they’ll stay that way. Maybe we’ll be free before long, and everything will be fine.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, reaching up to pull his face back to mine, kissing him more deeply this time. “I think I loved you for longer than I wanted to admit, too.”

He breathes in, slowly, his hand caressing my hair as we kiss each other slowly, without any real intent other than to be close to one another.

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything,” Sebastian murmurs against my lips. “I don’t think I knew what love could be before I met you. And it terrifies me, because I don't know if I can be what you deserve."

"All I want is you," I whisper, my eyes filling with tears. "Just you, Sebastian. Not what you can give me, not what you can do for me. Just you."

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