‘I can see now, that it not only represented my connection to the past, with my parents, and my future with you and our child, but more than that, it represents how the present could come from a past once thought damaged and burned by pain and loss, and be not only strong, and beautiful now, but hopeful and wondrous in the future.’
Tears fell freely from her eyes now. She was overwhelmed by his understanding of what she had tried to imbue into the gift, the sense of connection between them somehow even more powerful now. But she knew that she needed to speak, needed to say the words crying in her heart. She covered her hands with his.
‘I want... I need you to know that I heard you too.’ He tried to shake off her words, as if the memory of that night was hurtful and shameful. ‘No, don’t. I know that our words were angry and dark, but just as you found goodness because of them, I did too. I realised that much of what you were saying was right. I was so afraid of being rejected, of being unloved myself, that instead I wove fantasies around relationships, casting myself in roles that I could shake off, move on from if those relationships failed. And it wasn’t fair, to anyone, my father, brother, you or myself. I went to see my father,’ she confessed, with a small smile. ‘And, no...he’s not going to suddenly change, but reframing our relationship, not with what I wanted it to be, but how it was and could be...it was healing, and generous, and kind and hopefully one day loving. And I wouldn’t have had that without you or what you said that night.
‘But more than that, because of that night, I forced myself to truly take a look at who I am, who I want to be. I’m beginning to learn about “just Maria” and,’ she said with a much larger smile, ‘I like her.’ Then she frowned. ‘Me. I like me. I like discovering who I am and, more than anything, I truly want you to come on that journey of discovery with me. I am so thankful for that night in Iondorra. I honestly believe I fell in love with you that first night, when in some ways we were each more ourselves than we have been since then. And I would very much like to spend the rest of my life being that way with you and our child.’
‘Can you say that again?’ he demanded on a shaky exhale.
‘The whole thing?’ Maria demanded, a little worried that she’d not be able to do it.
‘No, just the most important bit.’
She smiled, instantly understanding what he was looking for.
‘I love you, Matthieu Montcour.’
‘I will never tire of hearing that, Maria. And I will never tire of saying it myself. I love you so, so much.’
Her hand reached out to caress his jaw, to reach for him and pull him to her in a kiss that was just as much joy and love and acceptance as it was passion and desire and need. Her heart soared as he swept her up from where she was sitting and into his arms, entwined beneath the clematis and honeysuckle as if they were weaving themselves together for ever.
Matthieu would wear the bracelet every single day for the rest of his life, through the birth of their first child—a beautiful baby girl, boisterous and full of laughter and as naughty as she could get away with—and their second, a gorgeous baby boy, sometimes serious, but always loving and considered and kind. He would wear it when he renewed his vows with his wife in the wedding he wanted to finally give her, surrounded by family and friends full of laughter, love and joy. And he would wear it as they weathered the storms that came through loss or hurt, but he would always wear it with the love that filled his heart completely for his wife, their children, his parents and himself. And he would never not be thankful that his beautiful wife had opened his heart to love and shown him that he was not the beast he had spent so long thinking himself, but someone worthy of the queen of his heart.
* * *
Unable to put Demanding His Billion-Dollar Heir down? Find your next page-turner with these other stories by Pippa Roscoe!
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Claimed for the Greek’s Child
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Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Revelations of a Secret Princess by Annie West.
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Revelations of a Secret Princess
by Annie West
CHAPTER ONE
CARO EMERGED FROM the café, huddling into her coat as the wind swirled around her ankles and bit her face. Funny that her skin could feel numb with cold while inside she was all churning heat. Nothing could extinguish that fire inside.
Except the possibility she might fail.
She faltered to a stop, grasping a lamp post with one gloved hand, fighting nausea.