Page 117 of Peasants and Kings
I stared at him in sudden understanding. “You wanted me to choose you, regardless of the money.”
“Aye. And besides, a million dollars is pocket change to me. It was never about the money…for either of us.”
I pressed my face to his chest again, loving the warm skin beneath my cheek. “Who is Ramsey’s father?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because you said after you went back to Dornoch to talk to him your life was never the same again.”
Hadrian paused for a moment, his hand tangling in my hair. “Ramsey’s father was the man who taught me everything I needed to know about how to navigate the criminal underground.”
My mind whirled with Hadrian’s unveiling. “You’re a criminal.”
“Aye.”
“What kind of…”
He stopped his tender love strokes and then gripped a handful of hair and gently forced my gaze to meet his. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
I swallowed. “You’re a criminal and a killer.”
His expression hardened. “Now are you afraid of me?”
I paused before answering, brushing my hand across his chest. “No. I don’t think I am,” I admitted.
“Liar.”
I glared in anger. “I’mnota liar.”
“Then you like danger?”
“Hardly.”
“Then why are you staying with me?”
I placed my hand on his heart. Not to push him away, but so I could assure myself that he wasn’t a figment of my imagination that I’d dreamed up. That this man—this broken criminal—really wanted me.
“There’s something special between us, and I want time to explore it,” I said.
“That might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
There were still so many things left unsaid. The past I hadn’t shared, and wishes for the future I desired.
But for the moment, I didn’t need anything else except this time in his arms and the drums of our hearts beating as one.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We fell asleep sometime around dawn. I woke up again and found Hadrian standing over me, about to brush a kiss across my cheek.
I peered up at him. I’d taken out my contacts the night before, knowing my eyes would be gritty in the morning from lack of sleep.
“Your eyes,” he whispered.
“Weird, right?” I asked.
“No, not weird. Unique. Like you.”
“Don’t get used to it. I prefer the contacts. Where are you going so early this morning?”
