Page 111 of King of Obsession

I shook my head, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a gentle touch. ‘You look stunning. You always do.’

A faint blush stained her cheeks, and she ducked her head. But I caught the glimmer of a smile, fleeting but real, and it warmed me from the inside out.

‘I’ve spent so long focused on revenge,’ she murmured, her fingers twisting in the fabric of my shirt. ‘It’s consumed me, driven me. I almost don’t know how to exist without it.’

‘You live,’ I said. ‘You heal. You let yourself be happy again.’

She scoffed, the sound bitter and broken. ‘I don’t know if I recall how.’

‘Then I’ll help you remember.’ I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. ‘I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’m in this through hell and haul.’

Her breath hitched, her eyes searching mine for any hint of deception. But there was none to find. I meant every word.

‘Why?’ she breathed, her words cracking. ‘Why do you care so much?’

I smiled, the answer as easy as breathing. ‘Because you’reworth caring about.’

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression soft, pliant, freakin’ sensual.

I wanted to fuck her so bad.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, her countenance heavy with fatigue. ‘For being here, for listening, for everything.’

I pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. ‘Always,’ I murmured the word as a solemn vow.

She sighed, her body relaxing further into my embrace. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘You merit the world,’ I countered, my tone leaving no room for argument. ‘And I intend to give it to you.’

A soft laugh escaped her, the sound like music to my ears. ‘You’re stubborn, aren’t you?’ she said.

‘When it comes to you? Assolutamente.’

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the weight of unsaid words hanging between us. There was still much to discuss, many wounds to heal, and battles to fight.

But for now, this moment, the warmth of her body against mine and the knowledge that we’d face anything together took precedence over every other freakin’ thing.

Cleo eased past a sack of potting mix into her barn.

It was mid-morning, and the sun was shininghard, and we sweated under its heat.

Cleo was going through her supply shed, and I was enjoying watching her tight ass move in her work jeans.

‘I don’t get Australian winters,’ I mused. ‘One day, you’re lighting a fire; the next, you’re stripping off.’

‘It’s the outback, baby, comes with the territory,’ Cleo shot at me. ‘And if you think it is hot, wait for December and January when the temperatures go so high even the poor flies give up on life.’

Wiping beads of sweat from her brow, she surveyed the other supplies packed inside - cans of beans, bags of rice, cartons of vegetable seeds.

Slamming the doors shut, she turned to me. ‘It’s not enough, Calibrese. We need to go shopping. You and your brawny self are eating me out of home and hearth.’

I leaned against the side of the container, arms crossed. ‘Don’t blame me because your doomsday provisions are running low, woman. Why are you such a prepper? Planning to hunker down for the apocalypse?’

Cleo shot me a wry look as she brushed the dust off her faded jeans. ‘You joke, Alessio, but it’s pure survival in the sticks. The nearest supermarket’s an hour away, and winter storms can cut us off for weeks.’

Her voice took on a serious edge. ‘Girl’s gotta be prepared to fend for herself.’

I nodded, conscious of how isolated and self-reliant Cleo was out here, a far cry from my cushy city life. What strength and resourcefulness it took to carve out an existence in this remote place.

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