Truth

by Penelope Sky

  It’d been a long journey with Damien, a lot of shit-talking between two men who didn’t put up with shit from anyone. His blinding hatred had finally settled down, inexplicably. “What changed your mind?”

  He stared at the ground below his feet for a few seconds before he answered. “Seeing how much she misses you when you aren’t around.”

  Twenty-Four

  Catalina

  It was the night before my wedding.

  I sat across from my father, playing a competitive game of chess.

  He watched me, his eyes burning into my face as he waited for me to make my move.

  I let my fingers rest against my lips, considering the move, before I grabbed another piece and made a diagonal move.

  He released a quiet sigh, as if he’d hoped I wouldn’t have figured out the perfect opening. He grabbed his piece and moved it.

  “So, Heath is a good player?”

  He nodded. “Caught on quickly.”

  “He’s a smart man.”

  “But you can still beat him, sweetheart. Don’t let him win just because he’s your husband.”

  Husband. Tomorrow, he would be my husband. “He wouldn’t want me to let him win.”

  “Good. He seems that way.”

  “Is that why you like him?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like a man who’s easily intimidated—especially by a woman.”

  “He’s not. What did you think of the house?”

  “Beautiful. He’s putting a lot of work into it.”

  My eyes softened. “I can imagine.”

  “It’s nice to see a man use his bare hands instead of paying someone to do the hard work.”

  I moved my piece. “See the greenhouse?”

  “Yes. It’s perfect.” He moved his piece.

  I made the final blow. “Sorry, Dad. That’s checkmate.”

  He sighed in annoyance. “I’ll get you next time, sweetheart.”

  Damien came to our side. “Can I play the winner?”

  “Yes.” Dad finished the rest of his wine before he got to his feet. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” He patted his son on the back then kissed me on the cheek before he left.

  We reset the board and started a new match.

  Damien poured himself a glass of wine and drank it while I made my move. “I got engaged before you, but you’re tying the knot before me.”

  “It’s not a race, Damien.”

  He drank from his glass. “I know. Just saying…” He moved his piece. “I loved the house. It suits you perfectly.”

  “I know. He took me over there one day, and I couldn’t believe he’d had it the whole time.”

  “Maybe he bought it for you.”

  “No, he said he won it in a poker match.”

  He chuckled. “Talk about a high-stakes game.”

  “How is he?” I hadn’t talked to Heath much because he seemed busy. But I also suspected he wasn’t contacting me frequently on purpose, because he wanted to make our day even more special.

  “Fine.” He moved his piece.

  “I miss him…”

  His eyes lifted to mine, a little soft. “Just one more day.”

  “Yeah, but it’s already been five. It’s torture.”

  “It’ll make tomorrow worth it.”

  “Yeah…”

  He made his next move. “Heath and I had a conversation.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you’re trying to scare off my husband, it’s not gonna work.”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I told him I approved of him.”

  I lifted my gaze. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “And I mean it.”

  “Damien…” My eyes softened.

  “You know I’m stubborn, it’s hard for me to let things go…but I’ve let it go. I think Mom would have liked him.”

  “Yes. And Dad loves him.”

  “He does. He wouldn’t have taught his chess otherwise.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re on board… That makes me really happy.” Now we forgot about the game altogether.

  “I want you to be happy, and I can tell he really loves you.”

  “He does,” I said with a smile. “He loves me as much as you do.”

  He smiled. “Probably more.”

  My mother’s dress was elegant, with long sleeves and a bow around the waist. It wasn’t exactly my style, so I had the seamstress alter it until it was exactly what I would have wanted if I’d gone to a dress shop.

  It didn’t look exactly the same—but it was still my mother’s dress.

  Damien was in the driver’s seat of his SUV, my father in the front seat. Anna sat beside me in the back.

  We pulled up to the house. It was a sunny day, looking like summer even though it was just a clear day in January.

  Heath stood out front, wearing a black suit, his hands in his pockets.

  I’d only seen him in a suit one other time—and he looked just as yummy as he did now.

  His eyes were on the car, looking at the tinted windows as he waited for me to get out. We’d agreed to meet at the greenhouse, but he obviously couldn’t wait that long. His eyes were slightly squinted because the sun was in his face, and his brooding expression showed the emotion that penetrated his heart.

  Balto and Cassini were near the door, his arm around her waist. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Their eyes were on the car too.

  Damien turned off the car. “I think he’s waiting for you, sis.”

  I smiled and pushed the door open, slowly sliding to my feet until my mother’s heels hit the driveway. The train of my white dress slid off the seat and to the ground. It had thin sleeves covering my shoulder, a deep neckline that showed the tops of my breasts like it was lingerie, and then it trailed to my feet, the slit high in the front so he could see my legs from the thighs down. It was a much sluttier version of my mother’s dress.

  When he inhaled a deep breath, it was obvious he liked it.

  I took my time crossing the gravel so I wouldn’t trip. When I reached the front walk, I steadied myself before I kept going.

  Without blinking, he stared at me, his face so hard, he had no expression at all. But the emotion in his eyes caught a subtle glare because of the sun, because of the moisture that built up in his gaze.

  I’d only seen him cry once—and that was when he’d lost me.

  I couldn’t take the long walk to him, couldn’t stand the eternity that would take. So, I gathered my dress and ran to him, ran up the pathway right into his chest.

  He pulled his hands out of his pockets as he came toward me, moving quickly like he couldn’t wait either.

  By the time I got to him, I was crying, ruining my makeup, ruining my hair. I jumped into his arms.

  He caught me, his powerful arms sliding me to the ground so his hand could move into my hair, cup the back of my neck. He inhaled a deep breath as he kissed me, his other arm squeezing my waist as if he might break me in half like a twig. He didn’t care about my family in the car. He kissed me like no one was there at all.

  When he pulled away, he looked into my face with wet eyes, like he wanted to take a moment to study exactly how I looked, memorize the fire in my eyes, the emotion in the tremble of my lips.

  I cupped his face, my thumbs brushing the two tears that streaked down his cheeks.

  He brought his forehead to mine, bringing us closer together. He closed his eyes as he held me, closed his eyes as he breathed with me, held me like it was just the two of us. There didn’t need to be a priest to read our vows, to make us husband and wife. Because we were husband and wife now…the second we touched.

  After dinner, everyone left, like they knew they should leave us alone.

  Balto hugged me before he stepped out with Cassini. “Welcome to the family, sis.”

  “Thanks, Balto.”

  He squeezed my hand before he walked out.

  Damien embraced Heath with a hug instead of a handshake. “See you later.” />
  “Thanks.” Heath smiled as he clapped him on the back.

  My dad kissed me on the cheek. “Your mother is so happy right now.” He hugged me tightly, longer than he had in recent memory. “You’re so beautiful, more beautiful than she was on our wedding day.”

  “I find that hard to believe…but thank you.”

  He turned to Heath next and hugged him the way he hugged my brother. “Come over whenever you get a chance. I want a rematch.”

  Heath chuckled. “You got it.”

  He gripped Heath by the shoulder before he walked out.

  We watched them from the door, watched them get into their cars and drive away.

  Heath shut the door, turning and pressing his back into it, like he wasn’t going to let anyone else back through there. His hand moved to the lock, and he flipped it, the bolt clicking into place.

  I smiled at him, watching the way he looked at me, like he couldn’t wait to get this dress off me.

  His eyes roamed over my body. “That dress…Jesus Christ.” He pushed off the door and scooped me into his arms, cradling me to his chest as he walked to the stairs.

  My arms moved around his neck, and I kissed him as he carried me, not wanting to wait until we were in the bedroom before we got started. I couldn’t wait for this dress to slide to the floor, for my husband to look at me for the first time.

  He carried me to the bedroom then set me on the bed.

  I felt something against my ass, and that was when I noticed the sunflowers he’d placed there, like rose petals on a bed in the honeymoon suite. I grabbed one by the stem, brought it to my nose to smell it as I looked up at him.

  He stripped off his jacket as he watched me, yanked off his tie, and destroyed his clothes in his haste like he had no intention of wearing them again. Then he lowered to his knees, his eyes level with mine. His hand moved to one foot, his fingers working the strap to get the heel off. With his eyes locked with mine, he did the other, his hands squeezing my bare feet when they were freed from the shoes.

  My hands moved to his collared shirt, getting every button loose until I pushed it over his powerful shoulders, revealing the strong muscles and sexy ink underneath.

  His left hand had my ring, the dark material matching the color of his tattoos. That was why I picked it, because I thought it would complement him so well.

  “I want to take that dress off you.” He pressed his forehead to mine, whispering to me. “But you look so beautiful…that I never want to take it off.”

  My fingers cupped his face, falling deeper in love with the most incredible man in the world. When I was in his cage, I’d never imagined anything like this would happen, that my captor was the man I would someday marry. “Then don’t.”

  His hands reached under my dress and grabbed my white thong. He pulled it down once I lifted myself, getting it down my thighs and to my bare ankles. Then he looked down at my body, his eyes on my chest. “I just want to stay like this for a while…because I never want to forget this moment.”

  My fingers moved into his hair as our foreheads touched, my wedding ring glittering in the darkness. “Neither do I.”

  He stayed still, holding me on the bed, loving me with his touch, blanketing me with the kind of love no one else ever would. On his knees with his heart on his sleeve, he worshiped me, counted his blessings for having me, made me feel more beautiful than I’d ever had. “You’re my soul mate…”

  “I know…” I cradled the back of his head as we held each other.

  The minutes ticked by.

  There was no rush—because we had the rest of our lives.

  Epilogue

  The curtains closed.

  Everyone rose to their feet and clapped.

  Clint sat on my lap, his feet dangling over my knees.

  I grabbed his hands and smacked them together. “Clap for Mommy.” I pulled my hands away, and he did it on his own.

  Marie sat on Grandpa’s lap, and she threw her arms into the air. “Yay, Mommy!”

  Richard smiled as he clapped.

  The lights came on, the music over the speakers started, and I held Clint’s hand as we walked down the aisle toward the entrance to the backstage area.

  “I’m going to be a ballerina like Mom when I grow up,” Marie said.

  “Me too,” Clint said.

  I guided him backstage, weaving through the other dancers and cast members until I saw Catalina sitting at her vanity, her hair already down and her outfit changed. She spoke to Tracy, sharing a few laughs about something that had happened backstage that the audience had no idea about.

  When Clint saw her, he dropped my hand and ran forward. “Mommy!” With his hands in the air, he ignored all the people around him and just did what he wanted.

  I’d give him shit for taking off, but Catalina looked so happy to see him that I didn’t think twice about it.

  She turned around on the bench and picked up our son, pulling him close and smothering him with kisses. “Honey, I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “We asked Daddy, and he said yes.”

  “Aww, how sweet.” She kissed him on the cheek then hugged him tightly before putting him on the ground.

  Marie came next. “When are you going to teach me how to dance?” She hopped into her lap to hug her.

  “Let’s get you some slippers tomorrow, and we’ll start,” she said. “How about that?”

  “Okay,” Marie said, her dark hair and green eyes making her the spitting image of her mother.

  I was the last one she addressed because her love always went to the kids first. They were always the priority, and I was pushed to the bottom of the barrel. But at night when they were asleep, I was at the top of the list.

  She got to her feet and embraced her father. “I’m so glad you came. The kids love you.”

  “Of course they do,” he said. “I’m the best grandpa.” He saw Marie grab her mother’s makeup and start to plaster it on her face. “Marie, put that down.” He walked to the vanity and pulled the things from her hands.

  Now my wife finally came to me. “What a nice surprise.” She moved into me, her arms circling my waist, and she rose on her tiptoes to kiss me.

  “I missed you.” My hand slid into her hair, and I spoke against her lips.

  She closed her eyes and gave a gentle moan. “I missed you too…”

  “Clint.” Richard grabbed the lipstick out of his hand. “These are not crayons.”

  Clint had already permanently marked her vanity, because when Richard tried to wipe it off, it was stuck in the wood.

  I ignored it because I was used to it by now. “Want to go out to dinner?”

  “If my father will take the kids home…”

  I kissed the corner of her mouth then looked into her face. “I wish he would take them out to dinner so we could go home…”

  “Well, I’m sure there’s a dark alleyway somewhere.”

  I smiled as I looked at her. “That’s my baby.”

  Also by Penelope Sky

  I hoped you enjoyed the Betrothed Series as much as I enjoyed writing. Heath and Catalina are so close to my heart, the love and intensity they have for one another. If you're anxious for another read, I have something else in the pipeline...and I think you'll be excited about it.

  I wrote this story BEFORE Buttons and Lace and came across it recently. It has a closer resemblance to Buttons than my other novels, and my main man is more similar to Crow than my other anti-heros. I rewrote a few things, but it really is an exceptional story. Very dark like Buttons, but even darker than that. It's a thrilling adventure, and the way these two characters come together is complicated, defiant, and unique. I'm very proud of it.

  You can order it now!

  I've been taking care of my little sister for a long time. When Mom was gone, she suddenly became my responsibility. The best years of my life were spent being a caretaker to someone else...with no one to take care of me.

  So I moved to Paris for my
study-abroad program and ended up staying, getting a French Literature degree, studying the classics while sipping the best wine I'd ever had.

  My sister never makes the best decisions, always makes messes to clean up, and it's finally time for me to have my own life.

  But when she comes to Paris for a visit...she brings trouble with her.

  She gets herself into a bad situation, and of course, I come to her rescue...like I always do.

  Now we're in a labor camp in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by endless snow and mountains, processing drugs for a group of men that never show their faces. There's no chance of escape in this wilderness.

  Except for my guard.

  He's not a saint, but he's the only man that's kind to me. He knows I want to escape, but he never reports me. When I've had a hard day, he brings me extra things to make my life easier. He tells me not to run because I'll never make it...but he brings me little hidden tools...as if he's giving me the means.

  Like he wants me to be free.

  Order Now

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