No vigilante Frenchman could stop that.
No demented brother could hurt us.
And who knew, perhaps, when I could walk again and she wore my ring, I would take her to England to meet a friend of mine. I would proudly introduce her to my singledom life and reintroduce us as a couple.
Because one thing was for sure, there was no me without her now.
Nowhere I would travel without her.
No bed I would sleep in without her by my side.
We were joined...for always.
Chapter Forty
A MONTH SINCE MY world changed all over again.
Thirty days where each morning Sully opened his eyes, grew stronger, and wrapped me in his arms at night.
It both flew by and crawled by.
Flew because Sully used every waking hour to regain his strength and mobility and crawled because every touch between us was a live wire set at a voltage determined to annihilate us.
Sleeping beside him.
Touching him.
Kissing him.
All incredible and needed after almost losing him, but I couldn’t deny that refusing sex was the hardest thing in the world.
Watching him dry off after a shower.
Seeing him grow hard just watching me.
Both of us flinching when we touched because our connection caused physical pain.
My body ached for his.
His temper spoke of his need for me.
Our self-controls were fraying.
I wanted him.
So damn much.
But I’d meant what I said a few weeks ago. I loved him too much to lose him, and I was petrified of sleeping with him because last time...
That won’t happen again.
I nodded, following my logic that the likelihood of Sully having another cardiac arrest after an orgasm were slim. Previously, he’d pushed his body to the brink and injected his veins full of poison. He’d detoxed and healed since then, yet...every time I inched toward him or buckled beneath the urge to open my legs and beg, a small panicked voice would shout in my ear.
What if?
What if he needed more time to be strong?
What if I was pushing him too much?
He already pushed for more than Louise liked. His physiotherapy usually ended with them yelling at each other.
The first day he’d stood without support, he refused to sit back down again until his legs buckled from the strain.
The first afternoon he took a step—assisted by Joe and Campbell—he refused to stop until he tripped and fell to his knees, possibly setting back his healing bones by weeks.
In the end, Louise gave up on controlling the timeline and permitted Sully to train himself. To use the weights for his arms, and the Pilate bands for his abs and quads at his discretion.
Each day, Sully broke barriers and rebuilt the muscle he’d lost.
He was so full of life now.
He smiled more than I’d ever seen.
He laughed at my stupid jokes.
His eyes glowed with less torment.
His thirty-three years had been erased and he’d transformed into a younger, less brooding man. They did say that life was put on hold while a patient lay in a coma. That no aging process occurred.
Well, Sully’s six-week sleep seemed to have stopped all clocks and reversed the strain of his prior years. I’d like to take some credit for that—for teasing his heart open to trust and filling it with affection. For showing him he didn’t need to hate himself or his kind. That it was okay to be happy when so many other creatures were not.
Talking of creatures.
Today, I had a plan and I wasn’t entirely sure how Sully would take it.
“So...I can kidnap him for the afternoon?” I asked Louise as she packed her suitcase and oversaw Joe and Steph as they dismantled the monitors and sensors, slowly restoring Sully’s villa into a home instead of a hospital ward.
“Yes. He can stand and walk a few steps—if someone is there to help bear his weight. Make him use the cane at all times, seeing as he refuses crutches. If he wants to stand for longer than a minute, position him somewhere he can either fall safely or hold on to something. Don’t stay in the sun for too long and no drinking alcohol, even though he’s no longer on antibiotics or painkillers. His system is still fragile and should be—”
“Who the fuck are you calling fragile?” Sully growled as he appeared on the threshold of the living room. One hand rested against the door jamb and the other fisted a bamboo cane with a sweeping handle in the shape of vines and palm trees. The tropical design continued halfway down the shaft, whittled with birds and flowers.
Jess and I had sketched it out a couple of weeks ago and asked one of the carpenters who was working on Euphoria’s reinvention to carve it.
Turned out, the carpenter was a woodcarver, skills passed down from generations and he’d leapt at the chance.
Sully had accepted the gift and hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. His eyes said everything. They touched me, kissed me, fucked me, and married me all in one grateful stare.
“What are you doing out of bed? Someone was coming to help you.” Louise stopped folding her clothes, glaring at her tetchy patient. “You’re determined to kill yourself, I swear.”
“Determined to walk, that’s all.” Sully swayed a little as his legs grew used to his weight. He’d slipped on an off-white t-shirt and a pair of khaki cargos. No suits or ties. No sign of the gatekeeper of Goddess Isles. His legs had filled in thanks to his daily exercises but the discolouration of healing bones and weaker areas hinted it would take months before he could do much more than stumble.
Moving to his side, I waited until he looped his arm around my shoulders. “We’re going on a drive,” I said. “I’m your chauffeur.”
“Finally, a change of scenery.” He bent and kissed the tip of my nose. “Where are you taking me? The beach? The restaurant? Lunch with Cal and Jess?”
“We can do all that if you want, but first...there’s something I want to show you.”
* *
