Page 100 of Cruel Dreams

The door opens, and Douglas reaches for my hand and helps me slide off the bench. I clutch his fingers, unaccustomed to my vision loss.

“I’ve got her, Douglas. Thank you.”

Zane’s rich voice flows over me, and it’s all I can do not to melt into a puddle on the crushed rock under my heels and beg him to make love to me.

“Zane.” I sound breathless. I am. Maybe I’ll die from lack of oxygen right here.

“Stella. For a little while there, I thought I lost you.” He rubs his palms down my arms to my hands and tangles our fingers. His touch sends a million volts of electricity racing over my skin.

I squeeze. “Never.”

Cuddling me to him, he carefully places his lips on mine. “Is this okay?”

I’m touched he asked. “More than okay. I missed you so much.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He crushes me against his chest, and I lose the sound of Douglas driving the limo away as I wrap my arms around his neck. The blindfold is annoying now. I want to see his face and look into his eyes, but I want to be a good sport, too, and play his silly game.

His scruff rubs deliciously across my cheeks, and I moan.

He laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard in a long time. “Easy. Have some patience.”

“It’s hard,” I say, laughing, adjusting my stance on the gravel.

“You’re telling me.” He clears his throat, and the atmosphere changes around us. He’s serious now, and my heart starts to hammer. “Stella, I’ve made you a lot of promises since we met. Some I’ve been able to keep, most I’ve broken. It shames me to say I believed the lies, and as much as I loved you when I thought you were with Cardello, I hated you, too. I haven’t always been who you needed me to be, and I’m a lucky man you’ve forgiven me my flaws and love me despite them.” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’ve told me many times you don’t like how I live. The shallowness, the selfishness. I never understood until Ash and Clayton. They had everything they could need, everything a person could possibly want, yet they hurt people to have more. I can’t say I don’t want that life anymore because I would be throwing away what my parents built for Zarah and me, but Iknow we can live on the outskirts of it and still be a part of what matters most.”

Under the blindfold, tears fill my eyes. It touches me in words I can’t express he’s given so much thought to our future, to what will make me happy.

He’s not offering me full protection from his billionaire lifestyle, and I can’t demand he walk away. What he’s offering is a compromise, and one that I can accept. I’d be a hypocrite to enjoy his money when it comes to helping my family visit me or vice versa but forsake everything else. Life doesn’t work that way.

“Do you think you and I could work out something like that, Stella? I offered to give up the company, but if I,we, hold on to it, we can do a lot of good—”

I press my lips to his to stop the stream of words. I miss, catching the corner of his mouth, and we laugh. “Of course. It’s your family’s legacy, and Zarah’s inheritance, too. We’ll pass it on to our children. Keeping it is the right thing to do.”

He rests his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re in this together. Compromise, right?”

“Yes, and I thank God every day it’s possible.”

He turns me in his arms, and I feel like I’m supposed to be staring at something. Maybe I am. Maybe this is my surprise. Goosebumps travel along my skin despite the summer’s heat.

“This is part of my compromise, Stella, and I hope it can be part of yours. You don’t want to live in the penthouse, and I understand. It’s nothing but metal and glass, and nothing can thrive there. I always knew you didn’t want to live in the city—even your apartment building had trees, a yard, and a flower garden. I started looking for homes in the country, and I found something...” His voice grows unsteady. “It’s a little large, but I figured one day we would have children, and Lucille andDouglas agreed to move out here too. We’d need some space so we aren’t tripping over each other.”

“You bought a house?” I ask. My heart jumps into my throat. He bought us a house. A home. In the country away from the city.

God, I love this man.

“‘House’ is a relative term,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“Can I see it?”

“Don’t flip out, okay?”

“I think you can trust me not to flip out,” I say, tongue-in-cheek.

His chuckle is warm and smooth. “You’re right. Okay. Here goes nothing.”

He lifts my blindfold, and for a second, I can’t see anything. The light’s blinding, and I blink several times to clear my vision.

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