Page 175 of Diamond Kisses

I froze and tore back. With shaking hands, I cupped her cheeks and stared into her golden glowing eyes. “A-Are you truly here? How—how is this possible?”

She broke into sobs and crawled into me. “It’s me. It’s me. God, Henri.”

She kissed me with a million kisses. She shuddered in my arms and touched every inch of my bloody skin.

Q stepped out of the smoke behind her.

Behind him, a mountain of corpses hinted he’d been busy before I’d arrived.

For a second, every cell in my body touched pure happiness.

But then the darkness swooped.

And claimed me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

………………………….

Ily

IT TOOK FOUR DAYS FOR HENRI to wake up.

I didn’t like to think it was karma giving me a dose of my own medicine. Teaching me how helpless and lost Henri would’ve felt seeing me in bed, unable to be reached.

I never left his bedside. Q put him in the same bedroom where I’d recovered. The silver-and-white decor was so bright and cheery compared to the melancholy worry in my heart.

Once again, I found myself housed in a great château in France—getting in the way as doctors sewed up Henri’s leg and arm, gave him intravenous antibiotics, and anything else his body needed to stay alive. They removed his bloody cast, leaving the bump from his healing bone visible, adding yet another injury to his long list.

On the fourth morning with him mumbling in his sleep but refusing to open his eyes, the door opened, and a beautiful blonde stepped in. I’d met her before. Yet we hadn’t talked much.

Tess, Q’s wife, carried a tray with a delicious-looking club sandwich and some homemade fries. Placing it on the bedside table, she gave me a soft smile. “How’re you doing?”

I smiled back, holding Henri’s hand. I squeezed his fingers so damn hard, hoping he knew I was here, waiting. “I’ll be better when he wakes.”

“Mind if I sit?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Dragging a chair from the window, she sat and studied Henri. He had more colour in his cheeks than he did in Tuscany. When he’d thrown that grenade and Franco snatched me and bolted, I didn’t know if Henri had killed himself.

When the smoke had cleared and he’d spread his arms, inviting anyone to shoot him, my heart had utterly broken.

I’d always known he carried such darkness.

I’d hoped I’d been able to heal that a little.

But until now, with him unconscious despite all the care and healing he’d received, I hadn’t understood. Not really. I’d never been truly alone. Never been hated. Never been judged or feared or mistrusted.

But he had.

And it’d changed him on a molecular level.

I was out of my mind with worry.

I paced the room and begged him to wake up. But I never once thought of endingmylife because I knew the power of love.

My parents called twice a day. Krish messaged me often.

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