Dominated (The Enforcers 2)

“Yes,” she said so softly that at first she thought he didn’t hear.

But the savage spark that ignited in his eyes told her he had. And then she leaned up, pressing her lips to his, like the brush of a butterfly’s wings.

He groaned low in his throat and then framed her face in his hands, tenderly, so gently that it was a caress, and he kissed her back every bit as sweetly.

She tasted the salt of tears and realized they came from both of them. Drake leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

“I love you, Angel. Yesterday, today, forever.”

“I love you too,” she said around the knot in her throat.

He reached into his pocket, jostling them both momentarily, and then he pulled out the ring she’d given Silas to return to him. With shaking hands, he slid it back onto her finger, expelling a sigh of relief when it was in place.

“I carried this in my pocket ever since Silas gave it back to me,” he admitted. “I was gutted when he handed it to me, and I never once stopped hoping and praying for the day that I’d put it back on your finger. Swear to me you’ll never take it off again.”

For the first time, she smiled, and he looked awestruck. His hands went to her face, tracing the lines, thumbing her lip and stroking her jaw.

“I won’t,” she vowed.

“Ahem,” came the clearing of a throat from the doorway.

They both whirled around to see Evangeline’s mother standing behind her husband’s wheelchair, tears glittering brightly in her eyes.

“Does this mean we have a wedding to plan?” Evangeline’s father asked gruffly.

“It does, although I plan to marry her as fast as possible so she doesn’t change her mind,” Drake said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t joking.

Brenda Hawthorn smiled. “I believe that can be arranged. Congratulations, my darling,” she said to Evangeline. “I’m so very glad you’ve worked things out with Drake. It’s been killing me and your father to see you so unhappy.” Then she looked gravely at Drake. “Make her happy, young man. God has given you another chance to make things right. Make the most of it.”

Drake’s eyes were wet as he looked between Evangeline and her mother and he squeezed Evangeline to him, holding her as if he’d never let her go.

“I’m well aware that I am the luckiest of men and that I don’t deserve Evangeline, but you can be sure that now that I have her back I’m never letting her go again and I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life doing whatever it takes to always keep her happy. You—and she—have my word on it.”

Then he grinned down at Evangeline, and she was shocked at the joy and relief brimming in his eyes. So much of the grimness and reserve that seemed ever present in his gaze had vanished. The shadows were gone. He looked . . . happy. Every bit as happy as she felt as she witnessed the truth and sincerity in his words and actions.

“Annndd,” he said, drawing out the word as he glanced meaningfully back at her parents, “giving you as many grandchildren as possible.”

EPILOGUE

The old whitewashed church in Evangeline’s small hometown had been transformed into something straight out of a fairy tale. No expense had been spared in Drake’s determination to give her the wedding of her dreams. The insides were draped from one end to the other in a cascade of elegantly arranged flowers, some of which had been flown in from all over the country. There were thousands of twinkling white lights, an homage to her love of Christmas, even if the holiday had already passed, and they were twined around a mountain of greenery and strategically placed to show the flowers to their best advantage.

Ironically, it hadn’t been Evangeline who oversaw or even planned any of the decorating, arrangements or anything at all to do with her ceremony. Drake had firmly told her that he and her mother would take care of everything and all he wanted her to do was rest and take care of herself and their child.

To her further amusement, Drake’s men—all of them—had each taken an active part in the plans. Silas had personally overseen the floral arrangements. Drake’s enforcer was a man of hidden depths. He obviously had an eye for art and decorating. After all, it had been he who had taken Evangeline to have her hair and makeup done, and it had been he who’d given the makeup artist instructions on the look Silas wanted for her.

For the wedding, it was no different. Silas had flown the same artist from New York City to the rural area of Mississippi to personally arrange Evangeline’s hair and makeup for the big day.

Evangeline sat in the bridal room of the church, which was no more than a tiny cubicle off the foyer on the opposite side of the church’s nursery, eyeing her appearance critically in the mirror. Oh, she hadn’t gotten dressed here, nor had her hair and makeup been arranged at the church. The artist had spent the better part of two hours at Evangeline’s parents’ home getting her made up, and after he was satisfied that she was, in his words, absolute perfection, she’d been driven to the church accompanied by Silas and Maddox. She was hurriedly escorted into the bridal room to rest—Silas’s firm dictate—and to do any touch-ups she may require before she was summoned for the ceremony.