Page 119 of Ruthless Savior
EPILOGUE
LEILA
Three Months Later
The Irish estate is beautiful in early spring. The roses are blooming in the garden, their scent mingling with the smell of rain and fresh grass, that clean, clear smell that always fills the air here. Outside, the staff are getting the garden ready for my second wedding to Ronan O’Malley—this one much smaller and more intimate, a wedding for love instead of necessity.
I look at my reflection in the mirror, smoothing my hands over the ivory silk of the gown I chose. It’s very vintage-styled, with a bias cut that shows off the small swell of my stomach and clings to my growing curves. I have a fur stole to put over my shoulders against the cold, and Alicia has done my hair in soft, Hollywood-style waves.
"You look beautiful," Alicia says, adjusting my hair one final time. "Ronan's not going to know what hit him." She grins. “And hopefully no one shoots at us this time.”
I laugh. “That’s not going to happen,” I assure her, and I feel confident that it won’t. Ronan still keeps heavy security on the estate, but as the months have passed, we’ve both started to relax in the wake of Rocco’s death. I feel safe here, and somedays, I question if we’ll ever go back to Boston. We’ll have to eventually—Ronan can’t keep going back and forth constantly, especially once the baby is born, but for now, I’m still enjoying being here, and so is my mother.
Alicia hands me the small white and green bouquet I chose, and we head downstairs to the back French doors that lead out to the garden. I can see my mom in the front row, looking healthier than she has in months, though we're still waiting for the results of her latest tests. The doctors are optimistic, but we're not taking anything for granted.
Annie is sitting on the other side, along with Tristan and his wife, Simone. He and my mother have been deep in conversation all morning, with him doing his best to charm her, and I suspect she's going to emerge from today with another honorary son.
The rest of the guests are a carefully chosen list of Ronan’s friends and a few business associates that he’s closer to, along with a few of the council members to witness the wedding here in Ireland. We kept it as small as we could, wanting the exact opposite of what we had in Boston. Something for us, not for show.
"Are you ready?" Alicia asks, squeezing my hand.
I smile at her, feeling lighter than I have in longer than I can remember. "More than ready."
The music starts—not the traditional wedding march, but a piece Ronan chose because he said it reminded him of the night we danced in that Dublin pub. I can’t stop smiling, my face starting to hurt by the time I step out through the doors and into the garden. The moment I do, everything else fades away except the man waiting for me at the altar.
Ronan looks devastatingly handsome in his dark suit, his hair slightly tousled by the spring breeze, his eyes fixed on me with an expression of such love and desire that it makes myheart race. He looks like he’s watching all of his dreams come true, and I know the look on my face must be the same.
When I reach him, he takes my hands and leans down to whisper in my ear. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
“I could say the same thing about you.” I squeeze his hands, my heart racing as I stand there looking at the man I love more than anything else in the world.
Ronan takes a breath, his gaze fixed on mine as he starts to say the vows that he chose himself, this time, instead of the ones that someone else spoke to us.
"Leila," he begins slowly, his voice steady and soft, "the last time we stood together like this, I married you to keep you safe. Today, I'm marrying you because I can't imagine my life without you in it. You are brave and beautiful and strong, the kind of woman I never thought I’d be lucky enough to call mine, and you are everything I could ever want. I vow to spend a lifetime loving you, protecting you, and providing for you. I will spend every day of my life trying to be the man that you need—the man you think I am. And I will be yours, every single day, for the rest of our lives."
Tears fill my eyes, and my voice cracks as I try to speak. “I thought you saved me, Ronan,” I whisper. “But the truth is, we saved each other. I never imagined that love could feel like this. You’ve given me everything—all of yourself, and you’ve given me a future that I never pictured before you. I vow to love all of you, forever, every part of you. To trust you, and stay by your side, no matter what comes. And I will be yours, too, for the rest of our lives.”
When he leans down to kiss me, it’s soft and sweet, his hands on either side of my face as he pulls me to him. I hear clapping and cheering, but all I can think about is how it feels to have himhere, with me. To have the man I love and know that I’ll never lose him.
Afterward, there’s dinner and cake and dancing with a band that plays lively Irish music as we dance on a temporary dance floor illuminated with fairy lights under the stars. My mom rallies for long enough to dance with Ronan and then with me, and Tristan steals a dance while Ronan spins his sister around the floor. The atmosphere is full of love and laughter—everything that a wedding should be.
This is the wedding I’ll remember for the rest of my life. And I’m grateful beyond words that Ronan gave me this—a replacement for the memory of the one that ended in violence. A wedding that can be a happy memory for the rest of our lives.
The guests are still drinking and dancing when Ronan scoops me up into his arms and carries me into the house, his brother and Alicia cheering and whistling behind us as we disappear into the manor. He carries me all the way up the stairs and into our bedroom, closing the door behind us as he sets me down carefully.
His mouth is on mine before I can say a word, his fingers tugging down the zipper of my wedding dress. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he manages as his fingers skim down my spine. “I’ve gotten to take you out of a wedding dress twice.”
“We can make it a third time, if you want.” I’m undressing him just as quickly, a frantic desire building in me as we stumble toward the bed. We’re both naked by the time we spill onto the mattress, Ronan’s hands roving over me as he kisses me again and again.
He slides down my body, his fingers mapping every inch of me as he stops between my thighs, palms firm as he spreads me open for him. I can feel my heart racing, my skin flushing as his mouth grazes between my legs, soft at first and then harder, until I’m gasping and pleading for more.
“Ronan—” I moan his name as I feel the heat of his tongue, his fingers sliding inside of me as he works me to the first earth-shattering orgasm. I’m still trembling when he leans over me, the taste of me still on his lips, as I feel him slide inside of me and start to thrust.
“Fuck,” he breathes, kissing me again. “I’m never letting you out of this bed. I’ll never get enough of you.God—” He groans as he sinks into me, holding himself there for a moment before he starts up again in long, slow strokes that have me writhing and moaning beneath him.
“Good,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck as I lift my hips to meet his. “I don’t ever want you to stop.”
His hips meet mine again and again, until we’re nothing but a tangle of limbs, skin to skin. He kisses me hard as I come for him again, and I feel him throb inside of me, my name on his lips as he comes too.
