I sucked in a deep breath, so glad that we were pulling up to the castle.

Clinging to Declan, I followed him inside. To my surprise, he peeled away and stepped aside, heading for the doctor.

“I can help,” I offered.

He shook his head, sighing. “Just go to bed. I’ll check with you.”

I furrowed my brow, worried that I’d disappointed him.

Because I lied? I’d struggled to face him after I made up that answer about a server smacking into my face, but I had no other option.

I couldn’t tell him that Keira slapped me because he would have wanted to know what I talked to her about. And if I told him about my mother’s debts…

My stomach knotted. A familiar nausea returned. It had been creeping up on me on and off over the last couple of days, and I wondered if it was a reaction to the constant sex. My periods had never been really regular, courtesy of those issues long ago, and I wondered if I was going through another round of PMS too soon.

Right now, I felt sick with worry. About lying to Declan. About not telling him about my mother. I just didn’t know what to do, and it was with a heavy heart that I watched him head into the kitchen with the doctor.

“You’re okay?” Ian asked me as I moved into the main lounge to slump to the couch. I should’ve gone upstairs, but I wanted to be here, close, to walk up with my husband. The doctor would help him. Declan seemed fine, but still, I worried. It had taken a few years off my life to see him fighting and shot.

There’s no doubt. I cared for him. Greatly.

I glanced up at my brother-in-law. “Yeah. I…” I sighed. “I’m fine.”

When he didn’t leave, I wondered why he lingered. He seemed suspicious, and I felt guarded, on the need to be defensive. “What is it?”

I hadn’t talked with Ian much, but that didn’t count for anything. Other than that one or two chats with Riley, I spoke with only Declan here.

“I’m aware of how you ran at the wedding.”

I groaned, dropping my head to the back of the couch. “That was the only time.”

“So, I shouldn’t worry about your trying to run off when Dec’s vulnerable and wounded?”

I stood, annoyed. “Vulnerable?” I crossed my arms and glared at him. “Have you ever seen him vulnerable?”

He almost smiled.

“I’m not going to run,” I promised as I walked past him and headed upstairs.

It was the truth. I couldn’t escape here, and I had no desire to break away from the man I called my husband. How could I want to leave when he made me feel so free, so cared for and cherished?

That fight in the parking area seemed so brutal and awful, but I hadn’t viewed Declan as anything but a hero. A valiant, strong protector. Not a villain. Not a “bad guy” like my stepsister seemed to think of him.

Declan was rough and gruff. But I’d seen the sweetness and tenderness he hid beneath the darkness to know he wasn’t all bad.

I wanted to stay with him. As I walked up the stairs, wondering if he’d see me in my room again, I vowed to come clean.

About it all.

The reason I was scared of him upon first sight. The deal that I’d made with my father to take my stepsister’s place and be the bride. Why I was afraid to tell him.

Everything.

Even the worse secret about my infertility. He had every right to know that I couldn’t bear him a child, and I felt sicker with anxiety to keep that from him.

All of it. I had to tell him everything.

If I could admit how much I wanted to stay and truly be his wife, for good, he had to know it all.