Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“You scheming little bastard,” Rhys snarled. “I knew I didn’t like you.”
“Is Cora well?” Meredith asked, nearly beside herself with emotion.
“She’s well.” Rhys tightened his grip, and the shade of Darryl’s face deepened from scarlet to plum. “But she could have died. We all could have died.” He gave the youth a shake. “I’ve a mind to throw you in the bog, let the wild pigs sniff you out.”
Tears were streaming down Darryl’s face by this point, and his violet complexion was tending toward blue.
“Rhys,” Meredith said, tilting her head toward the youth. “Please.”
He instantly released his grip.
“Damn,” Rhys muttered as Darryl fell to the floor, dragging in air with raspy gulps. “Lucky for you, this is the week I give up killing men with my bare hands.”
“Gads.” Darryl writhed on the floor, clutching his stomach and gasping like a fish plucked from a stream.
“Can’t. Breathe.”
Rhys glared at him. “Burns, doesn’t it?”
Darryl’s head jerked in response.
“Good. I’m glad.” Rhys turned to Meredith. “I know that feeling, Merry.” He spoke low and only to her. “I’ve dangled at the brink of death more times than I can count. And that steep climb back to life, it hurts like hell. The pain of an injury is over in seconds. Everything that comes after is the pain of getting well.” He gave her a heartfelt look, full of apology. “I’d forgotten that, you see. Coming back to life … It hurts.”
She nodded, understanding him perfectly. His was a battered soul, and her love … it must have hit him like gin dashed over an open wound. But he was back here, ready to take more of it, no matter how it pained him inside. Because he was the bravest man on God’s earth.
And he was hers. All hers, at last. Her heart swelled with joy.
From the floor, Darryl moaned.
“Get out,” Rhys growled at him. “Get out, and begone. Unless you want to spend eternity haunting those ruins yourself, you will not let me find you.”
Still gasping for air, Darryl crawled toward the ladder on his belly. At a painfully slow rate, he disappeared from the loft. A dull thud suggested he’d taken the last few rungs the hard way. At last, they heard the door swing on its hinges.
When Meredith and Rhys were finally alone, he turned to her. His brow furrowed with concentration.
“I love you,” he said bluntly. “I have to say that, before anything else. Because it’s the most important thing. I love you.”
Dear, dear man. He spoke the words as though they were some sort of damning verdict on her life. “I’m very happy to hear it.”
He heaved a sigh of obvious relief. He ambled his way across the room to her, looking around the loft. “You’re hanging curtains?”
She nodded, sliding her scissors onto the windowsill. “The lace you bought in Bath.”
“Pretty.”
He stopped next to the window and surveyed the view over her shoulder. So close to her, but not touching yet. Her breathing came quick, and her heart began to pound. Every inch of her tingled with anticipation.
He said casually, “I think this would be an ideal nook for a dressing table. Little chair, a mirror.” His big hands outlined a square in the empty space. Oh, how she wanted those hands on her. “Your silver hairbrush set can go right here.”
“Right next to your shaving kit.”
His big hand reached for hers. She looked up into warm brown eyes brimming with emotion.
“Merry.”
Her heart swelled as he finally pulled her into his arms. Just where she wanted to be. He inclined his head until his whiskered chin grazed her temple. And they stood there together, just breathing. The moment was too intense for a kiss, too profound for words. The relief, the joy, the sheer rightness of it all.
She pressed her forehead to his frayed lapel and the wall of muscle beneath. “I knew you’d come back,” she whispered. “I just knew it.”
His hands framed her waist, and he pulled her back to look at him. “Thought you didn’t believe in fate or destiny.”
“I still don’t. But I believe in you.”
“Good.” His throat worked as he stared deep into her eyes. “Because fate be damned. God and the Devil and every one of their minions could convene right here and now to drag me off to my doom, and I’d fight my way through each and every one of them to stay with you. Not because it’s my destiny or my punishment or for lack of alternatives, but because I love you too much to be anywhere else. And if you refuse to marry me, I’ll remain here still. Come down to the inn every night for a meal and a pint, just to look at you and be near you. I …” He brushed the hair back from her face, cupping her cheek in his weathered hand. “Merry, I love you.”