“Hush . . . I’m getting to the point of the story.”
“Get to it already!” Abby said, her voice bubbly with excitement. “I’m kinda dying here.”
“It’s not your story,” Marin retorted. But she didn’t look away from Sebastien. “It’s ours.”
Sebastien gripped her hair in his fist and tugged her close, lips to her ear. “You’re trying to drive me nuts. Again.”
“No . . . I’m trying to tell you I love you,” she whispered, so quietly only he heard. “And I wanted you to be the first one to know.”
The hand in her hair tightened almost painfully while the arm he’d wrapped around her waist spasmed. Marin felt her feet leave the floor as he straightened, her body weight supported against his.
“Marin . . .” The word came out of him in a choked whisper.
Turning her face into his neck, she kissed him. “I love you.”
He lifted his face and she reached up, tracing her fingers over his brows, the scar, then his mouth. “I love every beautiful, battered inch of you. You’re mine, Sebastien Barnes.”
Everybody heard that.
While some of them broke out into applause, Marin wiggled and pushed at his shoulders. “Now that I’ve said that . . . one more thing . . .”
Sebastien just clung tighter. “No. Not one more thing. You’re making my head spin.”
“And I’m not done doing it, either. Put me down. Then you . . . Hell, just put me down. I’ve got to finish the scene, baby.”
He did put her down, but first, he kissed her, hard and fast.
That had Keelie whistling and Javi howled.
Sebastien flipped him off.
“That will end up on Twitter,” Abby said, shaking her head.
“Like I care,” Sebastien muttered.
“No, I’ve got something better for him to post on Twitter.” Marin picked up the bag she’d put down with her purse and turned back to Sebastien. “I don’t want there to be any doubts here. I know you love me and I love you and I’m keeping you.” Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Got that?”
“Think you’re going to hear any arguments?” Sebastien reached out and caught her wrist, tugging her toward him, but Marin resisted.
She suspected some of their audience had already figured it out, but Sebastien hadn’t.
That was fine. Spoiled, sexy Sebastien . . . so set in his ways, he’d probably already started thinking about how he would do this. But Marin was just as stubborn as he was and she’d made up her mind.
She pulled the box out and held it out to him.
He glanced at it, then at her.
That was when it started to hit him.
“What . . .”
“Will you marry me, Sebastien?”
She opened it. “I figure by the time we’re done wrapping up production here in a few weeks, a really good wedding planner could have a wedding mostly arranged, especially if a really good friend of mine steps up to the plate and runs interference.”
Sebastien was still staring at the ring. For a second, he didn’t react much at all. Then, slowly, he lifted his face toward hers and their eyes met, the beautiful blue-green and the scarred imperfection of his bad eye. “You think, huh?”
“Yes. How do you feel about that?”
Sebastien pretended to mull it over—for about two seconds.
His answer was spoken against her lips as he grabbed her against him and hauled her in for another kiss, this one deeper . . . and sweeter.
Chapter Nineteen
The bed next to her was empty.
That wasn’t right.
Just eighteen hours earlier, she’d said her vows—she was now Marin Lassiter Barnes—and oh, how the press had had a field day with the fact that she was changing her name. She was tempted to post something to her Facebook page, something along the lines of Bite me—and she might, if they were still at it when she got back from her honeymoon.
But she intended to spend the next two weeks just enjoying Sebastien.
And that would have been easier if he were in the bed with her.
Getting up, she walked through the suite and out on the balcony where the sun was slowly rising.
She found him leaning against the railing, wide shoulder rounded forward, muscles clenched.
Sliding her arms around his waist, she pressed her lips to his back. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
He turned, then, pulling her up against him and tucking her head under his chin. She held him tighter, smoothing a hand up and down his back. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Hey, I’ve got my beautiful wife standing here practically naked. How can I not be okay?”
She smiled against his chest. “You are naked. And this isn’t a private beach.” Somebody would get an eyeful of his excellent ass if they happened to look. “You’re also avoiding the question.”
“No, I’m not.” Then he eased back, frowning as he looked up and down the beach. “Let’s go inside.”
“What . . . you’re getting bashful now?”
Judging by the dull red flush on his cheeks, he was getting something, probably worried about the idea of him getting caught butt-naked on a balcony—and his mom finding out. Once they were inside, he tugged her down the bed and pulled her up against him.
“Sometimes, I . . .” He started in a halting voice, clearly not wanting to talk. But maybe had to, because he continued. “Sometimes I dream about Monica. But other times, it’s Smith. This time, it was him. Just me and him. He put the knife in my hand, then made me stab him. Told me that I did it because I wanted to, because I enjoyed it. The rest of my life . . . am I going to live the rest of life seeing that bastard when I close my eyes?”
Heart aching, Marin reached up and cupped his cheek. “I don’t know. You might. I . . . Seb, baby, you might want to talk to somebody about these nightmares. I know they’re getting better, but you’ve got to know by now that you aren’t to blame. If you hadn’t fought back he would have killed you.”
He closed his eyes and tried to avert his face.
She didn’t let him. “Don’t look away. Look at me. Do you see me?”
“All the time. Everywhere.” He gripped the back of her neck.
“If you hadn’t fought back . . . we wouldn’t be here.” She eased her weight to the side and caught one of his hands, guiding it to her belly. “If you hadn’t fought back, our baby wouldn’t be here. You did what you had to do.”
He was silent a moment, and then he rolled her onto her back.
Marin was quiet as he dragged the short silk nightshirt up, baring her belly. When he kissed her belly, she closed her eyes.
“Mine,” he murmured.
She slid her fingers through his hair and said, “Mine.”
“Claiming a battered, broken up wreck like me . . . I think I got the better end—hey!” Sebastien rubbed at his scalp, glaring at her.
“Keep insulting yourself like that and I’ll do more than pull your hair.” She sat up and tugged at him until he did the same. Pressing her mouth to his, she gave him a soft, slow kiss. “You’re mine. That’s what you are, Sebastien . . . mine.”
“Yours.”
They lay back down, arms around each other, content to watch the sun coming up over the ocean. He had his hand on her belly, going around and around.
“We’re supposed to get an ultrasound soon. You want to find out what we’re having?” she asked after a while.
Sebastien pushed up, studying her. “What . . . huh. I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. Do you?”
“No.” Marin smiled. “Call me weird, but I actually like being surprised.”
“Okay. We can be surprised.” He lay back down, staring at the sky once more. It was that pale, orangy-gold color, he realized.
A breez
e blew in.
He found himself thinking, one last time of Monica.
And there, of all places, with his hand on his wife’s belly, in a luxury beach bungalow halfway around the world, he realized he was ready to let go. “I don’t think I ever forgave myself for not saving her, Marin.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that. I just wasn’t ready to believe it. Not until now.”
The sun broke over the clouds, limning them in the purest of golds.
Sebastien felt the breeze brush against his face. He closed his eyes.
Good-bye . . .
Then, rolling onto his side, he pulled Marin up against him and whispered into her ear. She laughed, then . . . gasped. A few moments later, she was sighing out his name and that was pretty damn spectacular.
Shiloh Walker is the national bestselling author of romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense novels, including Busted, Razed, Wrecked, Fragile, The Protected, and The Reunited.
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