Page 50 of One Weekend in London

“You and that trollop carrying your child are dead to her, Beaumont. Less than smears of dog shite on the bottom of her shoe.” I nearly laugh. “If you possess even a shred of self-preservation, you’ll crawl back under whatever festering rock you slithered out of and pray I forget you exist.”

His lips curl into a sneer.

Cruel and taunting.

“Because if I ever discover you’ve caused Sadie even a moment’s worth of distress again, there’s no end to the creative ways I’ll make you suffer. Am I making myself crystal bloody clear?”

There’s a strangled response I can’t decipher, Maxwell’s arrogance crumbling in the face of Rhys’s fury. But Rhys, he understands whatever my jackass ex said just fine.

“Excellent. Now fuck off and choke, you worthless prick. I’ve got better things to do than waste another second on a limp-dicked wankstain like you.”

He ends the call and sets the phone down with exaggerated care, his movements tightly leashed. When he turns to me, the ice in his expression melts into pure, tender concern.

“Come here, love.”

I go to him, closing the small space between us without hesitation, burrowing into his solid warmth as a shuddering sob wracks my frame. He hugs me close, one large hand cradling the back of my head while the other strokes soothing patterns on my spine.

“I’ve got you, beautiful.” His lips brush my temple. “Just as I’ve told you before and will never stop reminding you—you’re safe with me. Always. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt it.”

I press impossibly closer, his scent enveloping me like a protective shield. But even as I lose myself in his fierce devotion, Maxwell’s well-aimed venom continues to fester, unearthing every fear.

Every insecurity.

Rhys feels the tension in my body and pulls back, his fingers curling under my chin to tilt my tear-streaked face to his. The raw adoration in his eyes sears through me, branding me to my bones.

“There’s something I need you to see.” Gently, as if I’m made of glass, he sweeps a thumb across my face, wiping away the tears clinging to my lashes. “A place that holds a piece of my heart. A place that will show you, irrefutably, what you mean to me.”

With Maxwell’s voice still echoing in my head, unease ripples through me, but I nod. Because even with the doubts assailing me, I’m helpless to refuse him anything.

He’s my kryptonite.

Twining his fingers with mine, he guides me toward the door, his touch infinitely gentle. I don’t ask questions when we cross the threshold, because even after being knocked for a loop, one truth resonates in my heart, as if my soul itself is speaking it.

I want to belong to Rhys Kensington.

In body, mind, and spirit.

Even if falling for him destroys me.

CHAPTER 19

Rhys

Tension thickens the air, near suffocating.

As I guide my Aston Martin through the city’s winding lanes with Mark following, never far behind, Sadie’s silence weighs heavy in the space between us. Her delicate hands are clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze distant as it roams over the passing scenery.

I’m about to lose my bloody mind.

I can practically hear the cogs turning in that pretty head of hers, the doubts Maxwell, the fucking tosser, planted with his forked tongue taking root. It makes me want to turn the car around and head to the airport so I can pay him a visit, teaching him the true meaning of suffering.

But I don’t.

Because I’ve got a plan.

One that will show Sadie, beyond a shadow of a doubt, just how sodding perfect she is for me. And no matter what the voice in her head says, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

Everything I’ve ever needed.

---