The Duke's Broken Angel

I frowned as I took in the old turrets, wondering which of the four floors the administrative wing might be on. It might take me hours to find her, and hell if I wanted to walk through every sick wing the hospital had.

But I would. For her.

“You want me to wait for you, Sir?” my driver asked from the front seat.

“No thanks, Franc. I’ll call you if I find her. When I find her.”

Just then, the front door opened and she came out.

Cricket.

I opened the back door, getting out and crossing the distance to her fluidly.

“Keir, are you okay?” Worry crossed her pretty irises.

“Now I am.” I hauled her into my arms, inhaling her just to know for sure she was real. “Why do you keep running out on me?”

“Funny, coming from you.”

“I went crazy wondering why you’re so hellbent on leaving me. I thought maybe it was because my dad was at fault for sending your dad to prison.”

“Keir, no, God no, it never crossed my mind. My dad made his own choices, and your dad didn’t make him that way. He’s the kind of guy that likes to fly under the radar for a reason. Besides, the court told them they couldn’t talk to each other and of course, they’re sending messages back and forth through the bars of their cells. He’ll never change.”

“God, you’re perfect.” I held her at arm’s length, catching her gaze. “Marry me, Cricket. I don't want to live another day without you.” Her eyes turned emotional, lips pursing as she tried to hold back tears. “I’d marry you today if I thought you’d let me.”

“Oh, Keir.” She cupped my cheeks. “You don’t have to marry me. I’ll stay.”

“The interview—”

“It went well. They offered me a job on the spot.” She laced her fingers in mine. “But as soon as I sat down on the morning train into the city I knew I'd rather fight every day with you than not have you in my life. I went to the interview because I begged them to make time for me in the schedule, but I knew as soon as I walked in the doors that I wouldn’t take the job.

“Jesus, Cricket.” I pressed her lips against mine, our kiss hot and charged with more words than I had. “I love you. And I still want you to marry me,” I breathed against her lips.

“Maybe,” she whispered.

“Today?” I clutched her ass cheeks in my hands through her prim pencil skirt.

“Not in your life, Duke.”

She giggled as I swung her in my arms, carrying her back to the car so I could take her home and punish her for scaring the hell out of me. “Mm, say my name again, baby.”

She slapped my cheek playfully before kissing me again. “You’ll always be my Duke.”

EPILOGUE

Keir - three months later

“Can you unzip the top of my dress? I can’t breathe in this thing. Your mom must think I’m a size nothing.”

“Thank God you’re not,” I breathed at her ear, catching it and sucking softly. “I’d be happy to undress you, baby.”

She turned, adjusting her hair to allow me access to the zipper. Cocktail music droned on as we sat at the head of the table. Our reception table.

Tomorrow was our small garden wedding at Hopewell, now we ate and were subjected to unbearably long toasts from family members I’d long forgotten.

I’d flown Cricket’s mom in from the Ukraine to officially ask for her daughter’s hand in marriage, but it was a formality. Moms loved me. I’d already talked to her mom and her dad on the phone and had both of their blessings. They were surprised when they’d found out their daughter was dating a Duke, had even asked if this was some sort of prank or ransom request. I’d teased them that their daughter had my heart under ransom.

It was corny, but Cricket made me corny. I was so damn happy I could hardly function. I hadn’t had a drink since the night I’d nearly lost control and fucked her on the dance floor with my tongue. She deserved better than a man that walked away, or worse, ran to the bar instead of to bed with her.

I knew I loved her even then, I just hated myself for it.

“If I can’t get this dress off I’m going to break out in hives,” Cricket whispered. “Please take me to the bathroom.”

“With pleasure.” I locked her hand in mine and we weaved through the white tables to the back of the room. Nestled in a corner in dim shadow was the entrance to the bathroom.

“I always thought I wanted to see inside the royal palace, but it’s hot in here. Does your mom keep this place at a hundred degrees?”

I opened the door of the men’s bathroom, making sure we were alone, before bringing her along with me. The rich, red-velvet lined walls looked more like a luxe men’s club than a bathroom. She stopped in front of the mirror, head tipped to the side. “It’s a shame, such a pretty dress and I hate it so much.”