She smiles, but it’s still missing the sunshine. I don’t know what else to give her. All I can think of is my touch. So I lean in and kiss her. Her taste blasts through me, and I realize that I’ve been remiss in this too.
Her fingers grip my shirt, hold me close as she responds to my kiss. My hands roam Hannah's body with reverence, memorizing every curve, every soft sigh that escapes her lips. There's something different, a vulnerability in her eyes that makes me want to worship her, to chase away whatever shadows are haunting her.
"You're so beautiful," I whisper against her neck, meaning it more than I ever have before.
She arches into my touch as I undress her slowly, savoring each inch of exposed skin. When she's bare before me, I take my time exploring her body with gentle kisses. Her fingers thread through my hair, guiding me where she needs me most.
"Ash," she breathes my name like a prayer.
I enter her slowly, watching her face as pleasure overtakes her features. The need to protect her, to keep her safe and happy, has become more important than anything else in my life. In the short time of our marriage, everything has changed.
She cups my face, those green eyes piercing straight through to my soul. I think she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t.So I should. I should tell her I love her. Tell her that while Meghan will always have a place in my heart, Hannah is my life, my love, my everything.
Her body pulses around me, and thought exits my mind. Instead, our bodies talk. I kiss her deeply, pouring everything I feel into it. She responds with equal passion, clinging to me like she never wants to let go.
We move together in perfect sync, each thrust bringing us closer physically and emotionally. I try to show her with actions what I struggle to say with words, that she matters, that she's precious to me, that I'll do anything to keep her safe.
When she comes apart under me, I’m in awe of her. Of the love I feel for her. My own release flows through me, and it feels like a cleansing, a washing away of the past. Meghan isn’t gone, but neither is her memory holding me back.
Hannah curls against me, and moments later, she’s asleep. I watch her and feel a future unfold beyond my revenge. I can see us together in a way I never did before. Making a home, not just a partnership. Her body round and ripe with our children. Growing old together.
But the Keans are still out there. The attack on Hannah proved they're watching, waiting to strike. Every family we convince to join our cause puts a bigger target on our backs. On her back.
Hannah stirs in her sleep, pressing closer. Her hand finds mine, fingers intertwining instinctively. Even unconscious, she seeks connection, the very thing I'd tried to deny us both but now I can’t live without.
My gut clenches. Loving her like this is dangerous. If the Keans succeed and take her from me, I won’t survive it.
So I have to win. If it means burning the world to the ground to achieve it, I will. Hampton Kean will rue the day he came after Hannah.
25
HANNAH
Isit at my vanity, absently running a brush through my hair as I stare at my reflection, thinking about the tour Ash arranged at MassArt yesterday. The opportunity to attend the prestigious art school should fill me with pure joy, but instead I’m filled with sadness and anxiety.
After spending so much time avoiding me, why had he all of a sudden set up this tour, urged me to get back to my art, to apply to college? There’s only one reason I can think of. He’s close to fulfilling his revenge mission and is making plans to send me on my way once our marriage isn’t needed anymore.
I set the brush down and press both hands against my abdomen. I wonder if I can do both, go to school and raise this child. Can I do it without Ash knowing about the baby? It’s not right for me not to tell him, and yet, how will he react to news that ties him to me permanently through a child when he’s planning to leave me?
What if he sees this baby as a calculated move? A way to force him into a real marriage when all he wanted was a political alliance? I've accepted that he may never love me the way heloved Meghan, but I can't bear the idea of him resenting our child.
I swipe at my eyes, frustrated by my swirling emotions. The pregnancy hormones aren't helping my anxiety about all of this. I should be grateful he wants to support my dreams. Instead, I’m grieving over a family I wanted but will never have.
I stand up, moving away from the vanity, my decision crystallizing. Telling Ash about the baby now would only add pressure to our delicate situation. He’s been pulling away, focusing only on his revenge, treating our marriage like a business arrangement again. The pregnancy would force him to stay close when he clearly needs space.
I walk to my closet and pull out a conservative dress. I slip it on and check myself in the mirror. I hope it makes me look older, someone the Sullivans can see as a mature, confident woman. I was surprised and pleased they took my call and agreed to meet with me. I figure this is one last thing I can give to Ash—fixing the disastrous dinner the other night. Yes, he apologized and said the Sullivans were jerks, but I also know that had I been more with it, they wouldn’t have left feeling slighted. Plus, if I can earn their respect, it could go a long way toward impressing the other families. The coalition matters more than my personal situation right now. The sooner we bring down the Keans, the safer everyone will be.
I call down to Marco. "Have the car ready in twenty minutes, please."
“Ah… I don’t have anything on the schedule.”
“I’m meeting the Sullivans for lunch.”
“Mr. Ifrinn?—”
“Get whatever men you think you need or Mr. Ifrinn would want and take me to my meeting.”
I hang up and imagine any minute, I’m going to get a call from Ash asking what I’m thinking. I’m thinking I’m doing my job. Dutiful wife. Solid business partner.
