Page 69 of The Survivor
He could still hear that note of terror in her voice, playing over and over again in his head like a bad sitcom rerun.
He took another shaky step back.
“Blake?” she said, noticing him edge away.
“I’m just going to speak to Rick,” he replied roughly. “Go ahead and finish giving your statement to Detective Samson.”
He moved away, but rather than heading inside to find Rick, he just stood on the icy path leading to the greenhouse and rubbed his temples. He watched as Sam softly recounted the events to Detective Samson.
His chest squeezed with relief. He’d almost lost her. God, he’d almost lost her.
“We’re all done,” Sam said in a quiet voice. She approached him from behind and wrapped her slender arms around his shoulders.
At the entrance of the greenhouse, the coroner’s people were wheeling out the stretcher that contained Grant’s body, covered with a black tarp.
Sam watched the scene, her expression unreadable. “I can’t believe it’s over,” she murmured.
“It’s not,” he found himself choking out. “It’s not over.”
* * *
Sam lifted her head. What on earth was he talking about? Francis Grant was dead. The Rose Killer would never hurt another woman again, and it was all thanks to Blake Corwin.
Blake had rid the world of the evil that had lived inside Grant, but that wasn’t the only thing he’d gotten rid of. In a couple of short weeks he’d succeeded in ridding Sam of the plague she’d lived with for six months: fear.
How could she ever repay him for making her feel alive again?
“Of course it’s over,” she said in a firm voice. “You killed him, Blake.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said gruffly.
She ignored her speeding heart rate. “Then what do you mean?”
“I lied to you, Sam.”
She gulped, wanting so badly for him to continue but at the same time hoping he wouldn’t. What if he finished the thought only to push her away again? Her heart told her that Blake couldn’t be that cruel, but he’d been so adamant about ending their affair, so sure that she deserved something more than he could give, and she found herself falling prey to doubt and insecurity.
She finally found her voice. “You lied?”
“When I told you I wasn’t whole. I didn’t want to see it at the time but…I was wrong, Sam. When I’m with you, Iamwhole.”
Her mouth went so dry it felt as if it were filled with cotton balls. Swallowing heavily, she met Blake’s earnest gaze. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to be with you.” He brushed his hand over her cheek, and she almost melted into a puddle on the cold ground. “I’m saying that I love you.”
His words penetrated right through her clothing and heated her heart. “You love me?”
“I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. I love everything about you, Samantha. Your strength and your laughter and your scars and—” He broke off, took a long breath. “Everythingabout you.”
Their eyes locked, and she nearly fell over backward. The emotion brimming in his whiskey-colored eyes made her weak.
“When I got home today and found you gone—” His voice cracked. “It was like someone tore my heart right out of my chest. The thought of losing you…” He drifted, the look in his eyes almost frantic.
He stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I know I acted like an irrational fool, but I promise you, Sam,I’m thinking clearly now. I’m always going to be stubborn and serious—I’ll probably still be a demanding jerk from time to time—but I can promise you I’m not going to push you away again. I promise that I’ll smile more often and I’ll never play golf, and if you want to watch some Brad Pitt movies, I’ll make the popcorn, okay?”
Laughter spilled out of her throat. “Those are some pretty hefty promises.” Her chest suddenly clenched as she thought of something. “What about Kate?”
“Kate is gone,” he said softly. “And it’s time to let her go. She wouldn’t want me to walk away from you.” He gave a wry smile. “Actually, she’d be furious if she knew what I put you through.”
