Page 142 of The King of Hearts

“Yes. Nothing worked. Now, enough about my mother.”

I squeeze Ryker’s hand, and the hardness in his eyes fades away when they meet mine. I don’t say anything. I don’t need to. He knows without words what I’m trying to say. He may still harbor ill feelings toward his father—such hatred won’t go away in only a day—but he needs to recognize this isn’t easy on Antonio either. The man was taken from his family for two decades, held against his will, finds out his wife was raped, and the child that came from that heinous act was given to a man who did unspeakable things to her.

Ryker holds my eyes while he lifts my hand to his lips, where he lays a soft kiss against the back of it. Then he turns to his father again.

“Will you tell me about Rosa?” Antonio asks, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

Ryker goes ramrod straight. “No.”

“Ryk—”

“Maybe I will one day, but that’s not information I’m ready to share yet.”

Pain etches his father’s face, but he eventually nods.

“I need you to know,” Antonia says after a moment, “there is nothing in this world or the next that I love more than you and your mother. I would have never left on my own. I understand your animosity toward me. You were a child when I disappeared, grieving a loss you didn’t understand. If I could kill Theo all over again, I’d do it painfully, slowly, for everything he put you and Vivian through.”

Ryker stays quiet, letting his father air out his grievances. I think back to what my father said as he was holding me in his arms. Antonio has nothing to apologize for. He was held captive by a sadistic bastard. He had no control over what happened. I think Ryker recognizes that, but he lets his father continue anyway, also recognizing Antonio’s need to say the words regardless of being faultless.

“I could never make up for those missing years, but I’d really like to get to know you.” His gaze slides to me. “And your wife and child, of course.”

I offer a smile. “I’d like that.”

Ryker’s stiff shoulders indicatehemay not like it, but he doesn’t voice those thoughts. He acknowledges his father’s request with a jerk of his chin.

I can tell Antonio wants to say more, but he doesn’t want to push his luck with Ryker, so he gets up from his seat. “I’d like to talk more later, if you’re fine with that?”

“Yes,” Ryker answers shortly.

“If you need me, I’ll be upstairs with your mother.”

After getting a nod from Ryker, he leaves the room. I get up and sit myself sideways on his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “You okay?”

He slides his fingers through my hair with one hand. “Better now that he’s gone.”

I frown. “I know it’s hard seeing him after all of these years, especially considering that for many of those years you thought he abandoned you and your mother, but that wasn’t the case. Put yourself in his shoes, Ryker. This can’t be any easier on him, just in a different way.”

“I know you’re right, and I’m working on it. I just need time.”

“And you’ll have it. No one is rushing you. I just wanted to know where your head is at.”

He dips his head, and his lips meet mine for a gentle kiss. “It’s right where it needs to be. With you,” one of his large hands covers my lower stomach, “and our baby.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

HER

It’s been a week since I was held in the secret underground bunker, and I feel like I’m slowly going crazy. No, not slowly. I’m rapidly heading in that direction.

And it’s all because of the man lying beside me.

It’s during one of those rare occasions when his face is relaxed and he looks like an ordinary man. Actually, no, Ryker West could never be an ordinary man, and I’d never want him to be. But his face isn’t so tense, and there’s no lines beside his eyes like he’s thinking hard about something.

He’s usually a light sleeper, but he doesn’t twitch a muscle as I lift my hand to his face and trace a finger over his forehead and down his nose.

He hasn’t touched me since that day. I mean, he has, but not in the ways I want him to. Not with deep passion and hard grips. With dirty words and forced submission.

No matter how much I tell him I want him to, he refuses to budge. I know he’s giving me time, and I never would havethought Ryker would be capable of such compassion, patience, and selflessness, but I want my husband to fuck me. I want his harsh hands all over my body. I want him to leave marks on me with his teeth. I want him to growl dirty words in my ear. I want him to fuck me so hard that I feel it for days. To leave me a filthy, dirty mess covered in his cum. To use me and remind me that I’m his. Only his.

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