Spaniard Untamed (Blood and Thunder 3)

“You look well.”

Massive understatement. She looked amazing. Even in simple formfitting breeches and the team top, with her hair drawn back in a ponytail that made her honey-gold eyes slant even more appealingly, she looked like a fresh-faced teenager with nothing more on her mind than her next visit to the library. The fact that he knew her well enough to know she could turn any library into a steamy erotic film set made his senses roar.

“Thank you,” she said primly, staring steadily into his eyes.

He guessed she was hunting for clues to his thoughts. He gave her nothing. “Dance?” he suggested.

“Why not?” she agreed.

There was only one thing better than holding her, and that was moving with her. She responded as if he’d never been away. They moved as one. She gradually softened against him. He gradually tightened his hold. Words were unnecessary. Bound by music and each other, they danced on, oblivious to their surroundings and to the other people around them. It was more than a dance, it was a reunion and a pledge of trust, combined with anticipation for a future they were about to pick up and run with. Neither of them knew where that journey would lead, but it was going somewhere fast. “Shall we go back to the house?” he suggested.

“Pick up where we left off three months ago?” she said, lifting her chin to stare into his eyes. He knew they both remembered the challenge he’d laid down, which was either to repeat the cycle of running away from love, or staying and accepting the consequences, whatever they might be.

“I don’t think we need to do that, do you?” he said.

Her stare was long and steady. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “We don’t.”

They strolled back to the house, hand in hand. There was no desperation, just quiet certainty, and when he opened the front door, it felt as if they were both coming home.

“I should carry you over the threshold,” he said, and before she could answer, he’d swung her into his arms. She didn’t say a word, but her face said this was what she wanted, and he knew it was right for both of them.

Nestling her cheek against his chest as he opened the door and carried her across the hall, she dragged deeply on the same scent he did: clean house, beeswax, and fresh flowers, newly arranged by his staff to celebrate his return. “I love your house,” she whispered. “It always feels so welcoming.”

“Your house now,” he replied.

~~o0o~~

They sat up and talked all night, snuggled up close, side by side on Diego’s bed. They had so much to say to each other. Mostly she talked and Diego listened, Celina conceded wryly as she took a shower the following morning. It was like starting over. They were starting over, but with a deeper understanding of where they’d been and where they were going next. Their relationship might be back to front and upside down, but it was strong green shoot, and that shoot was absolutely determined to thrive.

“Do you mind if I join you in the shower?”

“Do I mind? Is that a serious question?” she asked Diego as he stepped naked beneath the pounding spray.

“I’ve got something for you.”

“I can see that,” she agreed.

He laughed, a blinding flash of strong white teeth in his beautiful, beloved face. “I mean this,” he said.

She gazed in wonder at the exquisite diamond band Diego was holding in the palm of his hand as if it were a mint for one of his horses. “For me?” she said in bemusement.

“Unless you don’t want it?” The laughter in his eyes turned into a steady appraisal. “Unless you don’t want me?”

“I want you,” she confirmed, still hesitating to accept the fabulous ring. “But I don’t need this.”

“I want you to have it. It was my grandmother’s, and it’s very special to me, a family heirloom. I can’t think of anyone else who deserves it more. My grandmother would have

loved you. She was, um, quite spirited too.”

“What are you trying to say, Diego?” she demanded in a mock-warning tone as her heart went crazy mad in her chest.

“That I love you, and that I want the whole world to know I love you. That I want to live with you, have children with you, work with you, and know you’ve got my back.”

“Do you have to continue the dangerous work with the vigilantes?”

He put a finger across her lips when she would have said more. “You know I have to. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. But if you’re with me every step of the way…” He shrugged.

“And when we have children, will you still risk your life as a vigilante?”