Beauty in Deception

I balance a toothpick with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry on the rim of his glass. “I am. Are you?”

He considers that before replying. “I suppose I am.”

“You came a far way to say thank you.”

“It’s not something a man does over the phone.”

That’s so typical of him to have such strong yet warped values. “So, it’s okay to kill in cold blood but not okay to thank someone if not in person.”

“Yeah,” he says with a grin, taking the drink I slide over the counter. “Something like that.” Raising his glass, he quotes me as he continues, “So, here I am, saying thank you in person.”

“I heard what you did to Warren. Tom told me.”

The line of his jaw hardens. “He deserved that.”

“His men, too. He said you blew up the guard house.”

A muscle twitches in his temple. “They got what was coming to them.”

“Grenade? You always had an arsenal of weapons.”

“Have,” he stresses. Raising an eyebrow, he adds, “Arson?”

I shrug. “I didn’t have an arsenal. I had to make do with what I had.”

He studies me for a moment. “You did well.”

“Thank you,” I say, and I don’t mean for the compliment. I mean for Warren and his men.

His lips tilt in one corner. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re welcome, too.”

His stare is piercing. “Why did you send it to me?”

“Warren stole from both of us. The diamond was yours.”

Turning serious, he says, “I didn’t kill him, but his fate will be worse.”

“I don’t want him dead,” I say honestly. “I want him to suffer.”

He considers that, too, before saying, “Good.”

I cast a glance toward the water, making sure Eden is okay. She’s lying on the sand next to the rocks, drying in the sun.

When I look back at Roman, he’s observing me.

“Where are you staying?” he asks.

I throw a thumb over my shoulder toward the block of apartments on the cliff. He already knows where I’m renting.

“For how long?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“What about after, Christina?” he asks gently. “What happens after Cape Town?”

“The West Coast, maybe. We went there on a fishing holiday, once. It was a good holiday.”

He nods as if he understands.

Loading the drinks onto the tray, I say, “I better serve these.”

Before I can pick up the tray, he grips my wrist. “I also came here to return something, something that belongs to you.”

Shoving his hand into his pocket, he takes out a ring. The emeralds glitters in the sunlight. It’s his mother’s ring. My stomach summersaults. Dumbfounded, I watch as he keeps my wrist in a vise while slipping the ring onto my finger.

“That’s where it belongs,” he says, his eyes gleaming dangerously as he meets my gaze. “If you ever take if off again, you won’t like the consequences.”

I look between him and the ring, my lips parting in a mixture of shock and surprise. It’s not what I expected. “I don’t understand.”

“We’re married. You said yes. You don’t get to leave me, sweetheart.”

“The marriage isn’t legal,” I say, battling to process how quickly this visit has taken a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.

“That’s easy to fix.”

I pull to free my hand. “You married Evie. You wanted to marry Evie.”

“I married you. You’re the woman to whom I made my promises and gave my vows. You’re the woman inside whom I came. It’s you I want. Christina.”

The declaration steals my words. I gape at him as the world seems to spin under my feet.

“Of everything that happened, there’s only one thing I regret.” He drops his gaze to the scar on my side. “As for the rest, I’ll do it all over again.”

“Roman.” I blink. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say.” He continues in a dark tone, “You have two options. I really hope you’re not going to choose the second one.”

It’s wrong yet so right. Deception led us to our truth. We’re perfect for each other.

“You can finish school in Joburg,” he says, brushing a thumb over the ring on my finger. “I already had a room for Eden prepared in the house. No more prisoners in the basement. I won’t have that if you and your sister live in the house. I’ll buy a house on the West Coast and take up fishing if that’s what you want. Anything you want.” Leaning over the counter, he grips my hair in a fist at the back of my head and gently holds me still as he breathes over my lips, “Just know one thing. I still want to make you pregnant.”

When he presses his lips on mine, sealing the declaration with a kiss, my world turns right for once. He’s not giving me an option, he made that clear, but I’ve never felt freer.

There’s only one thing I can give him, my own choice to make. “Yes.”

* * *

THE END