Page 24 of Final Vendetta

“Is the water okay?” I asked.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good.”

Once her hair was wet enough, I reached for her shampoo and squirt a little into my hands. Then I massaged it into her scalp, relishing in the familiar scent. She closed her eyes, her breathing soft and even as she melted into my touch.

“I’m sorry you have to do this,” she attempted to apologize again.

“Don’t apologize, Imogene.” I forced her stare toward mine, wanting her to see the truth in my words. “I want to be here. Want to take care of you. I love you.” I dipped my lips closer. “Unconditionally.”

“Unconditionally,” she repeated as I pressed my mouth against hers.

As my tongue swiped against hers in my first real taste of her since the accident, I could practically feel the pieces of us sliding back together.

The old us.

When I first decided to walk away from my plan of revenge, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. What my purpose in life would be.

Now I knew.

My purpose was Imogene. Taking care of her. Loving her unconditionally.

Like we promised all those years ago.

Chapter Eleven

Imogene

“Are you comfortable?” Gideon asked after arranging all the pillows around me so I could sleep on my good side.

As I settled in, the soft warmth of the duvet enveloped me and I let out a contented sigh.

“This is infinitely better than that hospital bed. I hate sleeping on my back.”

“I know,” he chuckled as he slid under the covers beside me. He shifted onto his side to face me, his deep blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.

This wasn’t the first time we’d shared a bed together, but it felt different. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had Samuel’s personality, for the most part. But he had Gideon’s face and body.

And scars.

At least in my mind they were Gideon’s scars.

I tried to tell myself I’d eventually get used to it. That this new dynamic would take some adjusting for both of us. At some point, I’d eventually forget about Gideon Saint and the things he’d done.

But did Iwantto forget him? His passion? His darkness?

“Areyoucomfortable?” I asked as he gingerly ran his hand along my arm, his caress nothing like the way Gideon touched me, possessive and in control.

“Why do you ask?”

I parted my lips, but quickly clamped them shut.

It didn’t dawn on me until now that I’d never mentioned stumbling on that closet in his old home. In the turmoil of coming to terms not only with the fact that he was Samuel, but also that the man I loved was a killer, it hadn’t crossed my mind.

But I didn’t want to brush it aside any longer. I wanted to know more. Wanted to know all the pieces that made up the man he was now.

Maybe it would help me find some clarity between the two opposing sides of his personality.

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