Eternally His

His eyes flashed, and lines of strain carved deep into his tanned features. “Don’t say that.”

The pang that lanced my heart was far more painful than my broken ribs. My cheeks heated, and my eyes burned.

I swallowed my pride and my hurt. This was too important. I wouldn’t take it back. I loved Sebastián, and I’d never hide it again. Not from anyone, and especially not from him.

“I love you, Sebastián.” I reached out with my hand that wasn’t in a splint, fighting a wince as my chest ached in protest. I ignored the pain and placed my hand over his, lacing our fingers together. He clasped me like I was his lifeline, but his brows drew together in a forbidding scowl.

“Are you angry with me?” I asked, my voice small. “I swear, I didn’t say anything to Morales.”

“I know you didn’t,” he barked. “I know,” he repeated more softly, tracing my knuckles with his thumb.

“But you’re angry,” I countered gently, wishing our reunion wasn’t like this. I’d confessed my love, and he was furious. I could see it in the taut lines of his body, even though his fingers were so gentle on mine.

“I’m angry that you suffered for me,” he said, the words hitching despite the way he seethed. “I’m angry at myself for failing you. And now, you say that you love me.”

“But I do love you!” I insisted. “I thought Morales was going to kill me. I thought I’d die and never get to tell you.” I firmed my resolve. “I’m not taking it back. I love you, Sebastián.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t protect you. I can’t protect you.”

Confusion threaded through my hurt and frustration. “But you did. You saved me. You got to me in time.”

His eyes glistened as they roamed over my bruised face. “Not in time,” he rasped. “I’m not worthy of your love, Isabel. Don’t say that you love me.”

A swell of emotion tightened my throat. He wasn’t rejecting my vow of love because he didn’t want it; he was denying himself because he thought he didn’t deserve it.

“You are worthy,” I promised. “You saved me, in so many ways. I was so alone before you, Sebastián. You’ve given me hope for a future. You’ve given me everything.” I swallowed down my own pain, determined to press on. “I know that you could never love me in the same way, but I—”

“Of course I love you!” he thundered. He drew in a shuddering breath and lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles in a tender apology. “Of course I love you,” he said in a strained whisper.

Something hot and bright filled my entire being, spilling out of my eyes to wet my cheeks with joyful tears. “You love me?”

I’d barely dared to hope for his love, and although I’d craved to hear the words, I hadn’t expected him to say them.

“I do,” he swore, pressing another kiss to the back of my hand. “I don’t deserve you, but I love you, Isabel.”

“You do deserve me,” I promised. “You’ve cared for me, you’ve trusted me. And you have protected me, so many times. You showed me that I don’t have to be alone anymore. I am so happy to build a life together with you, to make our home together. I never dreamed of being happy before I married you. Be with me, Sebastián,” I begged.

He clasped my hand to his heart. “I’m with you, Isabel. I’m yours. Always.”

I released a shaky sigh, calm settling over me. “And I’m yours. Always.”

He sealed our vows with a featherlight kiss, mindful of my injuries. I wanted to hold him closer, but I knew it would hurt him to see me in pain. There would be time for lovemaking later. We had years to spend learning one another.

He was my forever.

My husband.

My eternity.

EPILOGUE

SEBASTIÁN

Two months later

We stepped into the garden, and I pulled the length of black cloth from my pocket. Isabel licked her lips and eyed it warily. She’d become accustomed to my darker sexual needs—she reveled in my control—but she was still skittish of the blindfold.

“I have a surprise for you, tesoro,” I promised, brushing a kiss over her cheek as I lifted the cloth to her face.

She drew in a shuddering breath and allowed me to knot the blindfold, securing it over her eyes. Her trust in me warmed my heart. I took both her hands in mine and allowed myself a long minute to simply study her perfection. My pretty wife was fully healed from her ordeal. No bruises marred her lovely body, and I could now handle her in the harsher way we both desired.

She’d shown me her sexy, low-cut black gown that she would wear at our party tonight, and I’d been satisfied to see that her bronze skin was flawless once again. Later, I’d tear the dress to pieces and fuck her hard. But I wouldn’t ruin it before the event; she was so excited to have Marisol and Carmen visit. And now that she’d become friends with the queen of the cartel, I didn’t have to worry about any of her former friends being cruel to my wife. They wouldn’t dare.