“I guess you were wrong.”

  “How did this happen?” My hands are on his face, and I can’t stop touching him. Leaning forward, I press my lips to his, and he kisses me back with a force that steals my breath again.

  “I really want to fuck you right now.” He’s so happy. I’m so fucking happy.

  “Okay!”

  “But your big show.”

  “Are you kidding?” Grasping his hand, I drag him down the narrow hall, through the curtains, dividing the show from backstage areas, into the darkroom where I spent the last two weeks crying as I gazed at his oversized face.

  Now, in this room, facing each other, I blink again, forcefully. It’s real. He’s standing in front of me in the same jeans and button-down shirt he was wearing when he left me outside my apartment.

  He’s leaner, but his eyes glow with the same white-hot hunger. His long hair is looped in that samurai bun, and his dark brow lowers. I’m about to be devoured, and my toes curl as heat races through my core.

  “I can’t breathe,” I manage to speak.

  Walking slowly to where I’m standing, he slides a curl behind my ear before leaning in closer. “You’re the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.”

  Our mouths collide, and he lifts me onto the table. The skirt of my dress rises above my ass, and I exhale a whimper as his large hands grip my hips, dragging my core flush against his prominent erection.

  “Oh, fuck,” I gasp. “Give it to me.”

  My fingers fumble at his waist while he quickly unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and pulls it over his head. His torso is even more ripped, and I lean forward to press my mouth against his collarbone, licking his skin as salt fills my mouth.

  “I love your body.” Sliding my hands around his waist, I’m on fire.

  Reaching for the button of his jeans, I manage to get it open, shoving them down as the pink tip of his cock emerges. Leaning forward, I lick my tongue over it, and his groan makes me wet.

  “I don’t want to tear your dress.” His voice is thick with lust, and I’m ready to rip through the satin fabric myself.

  I slide to the edge of the table, and he reaches under my skirt to my thong, ripping it off my body.

  “Yes,” I whimper, rolling onto my stomach. “Fuck me.”

  The skirt is over my bare ass, and he slides his cock up and down my dripping core. With a firm thrust, he’s fully inside me, and we both groan.

  “Oh, God…” I arch my back so I can take him further into me.

  His large arm wraps over my chest, and he lifts my back to his chest, his lips pressing into my ear. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

  Everything in me melts, and my eyes squeeze shut as his large hand moves between my thighs, circling and sliding up and down my clit. It doesn't take much to have me rigid, vibrating with orgasm, and trembling in his arms.

  He’s thrusting harder, and my fingers cut into his forearm. “Yes,” I gasp, feeling my orgasm rising again as his fat cock massages my deepest spots.

  I don’t know how this is happening, but I’m not questioning it. He’s here in my arms, loving me raw and dirty. My dreams are all coming true, and I want to savor every moment of this reunion.

  His fingers slap my clit, and I yelp, coming again, harder. He thrusts once more then holds, his cock pulsing deep, filling me as my body quivers, as emotions race through my chest, as I feel like I'm being swept up in a tidal wave of unparalleled ecstasy.

  “Fuck, that’s so good.” He exhales a groan before pressing his mouth against my shoulder.

  Clutching my fingers into his hair, I laugh at the joy radiating in my bones. “How is this happening?”

  Strong arms encircle my torso, and his face is beside mine. We’re wrapped in so much love and afterglow, it’s like magic.

  “I spent nine hours on a plane, planning out all the things I wanted to tell you.” His voice is that gorgeous, deep vibration I’ve dreamt about so many times.

  “I like this better.” Turning in his arms, he slips out, and we frown.

  I take his hand, leading him to the sink where soft towels are kept for cleanup.

  “So they let you out?” Reaching up, I slide a piece of his hair behind his ear. He moves closer, pulling me into his arms.

  “It was the little girl’s grandfather.” Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. “The one I saved from the fire. He put me on a plane, no questions asked.”

  Stretching higher, I cup his neck with my hand, and we kiss again, his tongue sliding firmly against mine, curling and claiming me as his. I’m levitating instead of standing, reveling in this waking dream. He’s here.

  I don’t want to go back to the show. I want to go back to my bedroom–or a hotel room, and spend all night in his arms.

  “I need to find Hutch.” He smooths both hands down the sides of my head. “But I had to find you first.”

  Lifting my chin, I kiss him again. I can’t stop kissing him. “You’re right, but I hate it. I want you all to myself.”

  “We won’t take long,” he promises, spreading his hand over my cheek again and kissing me once more.

  I have no panties, but my dress is still intact. Waiting, I lick my lips as he buttons his shirt and fastens his jeans. Threading our fingers together, I pull him towards the door.

  “Here we go.”

  We’re out the door and into the mix of spectators. My big, tall man is at my back, and I walk him through the show, stopping at my favorite shots and letting him tell me what he thinks. Every few steps, he leans down to kiss my ear, sending a shower of tingles down my shoulders and legs.

  “See what you think of these.” Dragging him to the last hall, we pass the image of Blake and Hutch.

  “I’d like something like that of us.”

  “Me too.” Lifting his hand to my lips, I kiss his knuckles.

  The image of Pepper and her dad is next, and he exhales a little growl. “I don't like that guy.”

  “Stop!” I give his arm a tug. “He’s nice, and he really loves Pepper.”

  “As long as he keeps his hands off you.” I’m back in Scar’s strong arms, and I’m giddy and light. I’m in heaven, sharing this with him, hearing his thoughts.

  Finally, we reach the self-portrait at the end of the show. Stopping in front of it, I look at the image of me plucking the petals off the daisy. The sunset glows golden around my head, and what was once a painful moment of loss and longing is transformed into magic.

  Now, it’s beauty and love.

  “I want this.” He pulls me closer. “It’s how I dreamed of you every day we were apart. You haunted my soul.”

  Turning in his arms, I look up into his beautiful eyes. “I don’t love you a crazy amount.” His brow quirks, but I continue. “I know how much I love you, and it’s bigger than the universe.”

  Warmth radiates to me from his eyes, and leaning down, he presses his lips to mine. “You are mine, beautiful girl. Nothing will tear us apart again.”

  “So it worked?” Hutch’s deep voice echoes in my mother’s kitchen. “Fuck, I was so depressed coming home. I didn’t think I’d accomplished anything.”

  I’m sitting on the bar behind Scar. He’s leaning back between my legs, and my arms are around his shoulders. He's retelling the story of his release to his partners, and I can’t stop touching him. He never stops touching me.

  Dirk claps his shoulder, giving it a shake. “You built up so many karma points saving that little girl, it had to come back to help you.”

  “I saw her picture. She’s doing really well.” Scar looks down at his hand on my thigh. “It’s all good now.”

  “Were you happy with the show?” Blake taps my arm, pulling me out of my fixation of holding my man in my arms.

  “What show?” I tease, wrinkling my nose. “Kidding! It was amazing. Thank you, sis.”

  Sliding off the bar, I give my sister a hug.

  “You’re a star.” She leans back, holding my hands and smiling proudly.

  Scar’s massive arms surround me, and again, he kisses my neck. He hasn’t stopped touching or kissing me since our reunion, and I am here for it.

  “Hana’s pictures are art. I could stare at them all day.” Scar’s compliments make me want to fly.

  “Absolutely,” Hutch and Dirk join in the compliments, and I exhale a laugh.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  “Jill said she sold every print, and bidding wars broke out on several of them.” Blake’s expression is smug, and she nods. “She’s already booked you for the fall.”

  “We talked about that.” I slide my fingers into Scars, and he gazes down at me with love and pride and so much emotion. Blinking around, I realize everyone is watching us. “Where are Carmen and Teal and Pepper?”

  “They went for cupcakes.” Blake gives my shoulder a squeeze. “We can catch up tomorrow. It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

  “I booked you guys a room at The Plaza.” Dirk calls as he heads for the door. “A car is waiting when you’re ready.”

  Sliding my eyes from my sister, who’s pulling Hutch down the passage towards her bedroom, to Dirk’s sudden departure, I step closer to Scar’s chest. “I’m ready.”

  He looks down at me like I’m his treasure, his eyes so full of pride and confidence and possession. “Let’s get out of here.”

  A thrill races from my chest to my core, and I squeal when he sweeps me off my feet, carrying me to the door.

  I’m sure our room at The Plaza is the ultimate in elegance, but I don’t even notice. The only thing I see is him, my gorgeous hero, my savior who is a prince to me.

  Our bodies entwine in ecstasy, sweaty and intense, biting, tasting, smelling, committing every sense to memory that will last through lifetimes.

  Curling into his side, he folds his long body behind mine, my dark protector watching over me since that first day so long ago. My eyes close, and the voices are gone. His lips press to my head, and a wash of comfort flows through my skin.

  We’ve fought demons and darkness, but we survived. Our scars remain, but they tell us we can heal.

  We can walk through fire, and together, we’ll make it through to the other side.

  EPILOGUE

  Scar

  Hana is curled on my lap in the oversized recliner in Hugh’s entertainment room, and she’s making me watch this movie about pageant girls.

  She argues it’s about more than pageant girls, but I’m watching Sandra Bullock have a makeover, a pajama party, a girls’ night out where they get really drunk… She’s playing music on crystal wine glasses holding water.

  Finally we’re at the part Hana said was the reason we’re watching it, and I confess, I crack a smile. “You were not that good at SING.”

  “It’s because your stomach is a wall of granite.” She scoots around, studying my arm, tracing her finger over the new tattoo of a slim, mythical creature with long curls. “You added a mermaid to your sleeve. That’s for me?”

  Her chin tilts up, and she smiles so cute, I kiss her nose. The first time I saw her, she had me entranced. “It is.”

  “I love it.”

  “I love you.”

  She snuggles into my side again, resting her head on my chest, and I manage to get through the rest of this silly film. Okay, it’s not the worst Sandra Bullock movie–it’s not Speed 2. I had to turn that viewing into a makeout session, which gives me an idea.

  “Why don’t you sit on my lap?” I give her arm a little pull, and she slants her eyes up at me.

  “Last time I did that, it turned into reverse cowgirl.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No, but we’re lucky nobody walked in on us. There’s not a lock on that door.”

  “We should have movie night at my place.”

  “But we wouldn’t have these luxury accommodations.” Sliding up, she straddles my lap facing me. “And we wouldn’t watch any movies.”

  She breaks one of her special sugar cookies in two, holding one to my lips as she eats the other. It’s chewy and warm, and I arch an eyebrow.

  “I love eating your cookies.”

  Leaning forward, she slides her lips along my cheek. “You do it so well.”

  I’ve got a boner in my pants, and I’m ready to slide it into her. Turning my head to kiss her. Her lips part, and when our tongues caress, she tastes like rich, sugary butter.

  “You’ve seen this movie a lot.” My lips are at her ear, and I pull the lobe with my teeth.

  “How do you know that?” She rocks on my hard cock, and I groan.

  “You quote all the lines.”

  “Then you watch while I play.” Sliding to her knees, she blinks those blue eyes up at me as she slides my sweats down my hips.

  My erection pops out over my belly, and she’s on it, pulling my tip between her lips, causing me to push back in the chair with a groan. Fuck, she’s too good at this.

  “Hana,” I groan, sliding my hand in the side of her hair, but she’s not stopping.

  Her hot mouth pulls at my tip when her tongue slides out around the base, teasing as the orgasm tightens my ass. I am not watching the movie, and when her fingers tickle my sack, I lean forward and lift her off the ground, planting her on my lap.

  “That does it,” I groan.

  She squeals as I reach under her skirt and pull her panties to the side, sliding fully into her slippery wet core. Damn, she feels like heaven.

  Leaning forward, she pulls the ring in my lip with hers before making a pouty face. “I wanted you to see the movie.”

  Then she rocks her hips, pulling me deeper into her core. Fuck that movie. I catch the sides of her face and kiss her firmly. “I’d rather watch you ride my dick.”

  “Mm…” She sits up straighter, pulling her shirt over her head and giving me a show. “How’s this?”

  Cupping her breasts, she pulls her nipples as she rocks back and forth. “Gorgeous.”

  But when she licks her fingers and slides them between her thighs and starts rubbing her clit, I nearly blow. “Fuck, Hana. I like that.”

  “I do it all the time.” She puts a hand on the chair beside my face and whispers in my ear. “When I think of you.”

  Fire floods my brain, and I grip her ass, rocking her harder as my orgasm builds. She gasps and whimpers, and I feel the back of her hand moving faster against my thigh. It’s fucking hot as hell, and I’m not holding back.

  Her back arches, and she exhales a loud moan as her pussy breaks into spasms. I lift my ass off the chair as the orgasm races through my cock, and we ride it out, my arm around her waist, straining and coming, holding each other as the tidal wave sweeps over us.

  She’s in my arms as her breath slows to normal. Her face is on my shoulder, and she lifts it to kiss my cheek. “We should do movie night at your place.”

  “We’re doing pretty good right here.”

  Leaning to the side, she scoops her shirt off the floor and quickly pulls it over her head. “We really are taking chances, especially watching a rom-com. Anybody could walk in.”

  She curls into my side again, resting her cheek on my chest as I restore my pants over my hips. We should get cleaned up, but I’ll give it a few more minutes.

  Tracing her finger over my new tattoo again, she looks up at me. “I never have bad dreams anymore. Isn’t that weird?”

  “It’s good. It means you feel safe.”

  “It’s like the nightmares are over. All happy endings from now on.”

  Wrapping my arms around her, I close my eyes as I inhale her soft scent, flowers and sugar. Her nightmares are over, but we still have a few loose ends to tie up, or bury.

  The claim ticket is burning a hole in my pocket. I have one thing on my mind today, but Hutch wanted me to stop by the office for a few minutes. He said he has news, but my eyes are on the antiques store and the plans I have for lunch.

  Hana was curled up in my sheets when I left her this morning. She told me she’s taking Pepper and some of her friends out with the horses for a photo shoot this afternoon, and I told her I’d be there.

  What she doesn’t know is the kids are helping me with something special.

  “Hey, thanks for coming in on your day off.” Hutch clasps my hand when I enter, and Dirk’s at the computer, as always, pulling up images.

  “What’s happening?”

  “We just got this report from our man in Minsk.” Dirk has the tone that means he’s concentrating. “Just trying to verify it’s legit.”

  We walk over to stand behind him, and Hutch explains what’s happening. “A photo was circulated on the dark web last night. Simon Petrovich is dead.”

  Shock flashes in my chest, and I frown at my friend. “How?”

  “That’s the part I need to verify.” Dirk’s fingers fly over the keyboard, and I’m waiting for him to say heart attack. “Gunshot wound to the chest. The police report ruled it a suicide.”

  Stepping back, I slide my hand over my mouth. “No fucking way that’s true.”

  “You were with him the last time any of us saw him. Any thoughts?”

  “He had two bodyguards with him all the time.” Leaning closer, I study the grainy image. “That’s Simon, or someone made to look exactly like him.”

  “The coroner verified he had a very small star tattooed on the back of his knee.”

  My fists tighten. I know what it means, I kneel for no man. It’s the old symbol no one talks about. “Did Simon have such a mark?”

  “It’s the only thing they have to go on, besides dental records,” Dirk quips, rocking back in his chair and turning to face us.

  “Someone killed Simon, and they didn’t use the Petrovich method.” Hutch’s hands are on his hips, and he walks slowly to his desk. “Does that mean it’s someone outside his network? Or is it someone on the inside trying to make it look like a hit?”

  Exhaling heavily, I shake my head. “I can’t say that I give a shit. With him dead, no one is left to bother the van Hamiltons anymore.”

  “What about you?” Hutch’s green eyes level on mine.

  “I can handle myself.” My thoughts go to the phone hidden in my office. Who would answer if I used it now? I have no clue. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone left remembers me.”