Page 125 of Peasants and Kings
“Are you all right? You look pale,” he said, his hand reaching out to touch my face.
“I’m fine,” I said and then forced a smile. “Didn’t sleep well.”
He nodded, his brow furrowed. “You’re not having regrets about telling me who you are, are you?”
I adamantly shook my head.
“Then what is it? Tell me so I can alleviate your concerns.”
“If only it were that easy.” I’d had Ingrid bring me tea instead of coffee, and I took a sip of the soothing chamomile. “It’s overwhelming, Hadrian. I’ve been on the run since I was a child, even though I didn’t realize it. Then my mother killed herself. I spent months living in motels trying to figure out how to get a job under the table without providing any information and blew all the cash she left me. When I finally found work, it only paid for a shitty basement apartment and Ramen noodles. There were some days I ate one meal… It was so hard, you don’t understand—”
“Idon’t understand? I lived on the streets of Edinburgh and fought for my money.”
“You’re right, I didn’t mean—”
“You’re not alone in this, Sterling. The nightmare is over now.”
“Is it?” My brow wrinkled as I turned pensive. “I didn’t expect to care about you, Hadrian. Now that I do, I’m afraid I made a mistake by staying. What if you’re in danger because of me? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of who I am. I never should’ve taken this contract. I never should’ve let it get this far.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied me. “Do you really think you had a choice?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t have done to seduce you into coming to my island.”
“I should’ve done more to resist you.”
“It’s impossible to resist me.”
I smiled absently as I sipped my tea. If only I was a normal girl, and I’d come here without any baggage. My situation had complicated our lives together.
“We need to discuss how things are going to go when your family is here,” Hadrian said. “I’ve invited them to discuss what happened to me, but I haven’t mentioned you yet.”
I let out a slow exhale. “So they don’t know about me?”
“No. I’ll call you Eden in their presence up until it’s time to discuss your situation. You will stand by my side and act as my hostess.”
“Do we have to tell them?” I exclaimed. “I mean, they don’t know about me. Maybe they’ll never find out about me.”
Hadrian leaned over and placed his large hand on my arm. “I told you: You can’t live your life on the run. What would that look like for us? Hmm? You, stuck here on my island because we don’t know if there’s a trail? The rest of your life spent making sure the Foscari don’t ever learn of your whereabouts? No, Sterling. We’re going to tell your family and I’m going to pay whatever it is I have to pay to buy your freedom, and then we get to move on with our lives.”
I set down my mug and got up from the table. I perched in his lap and wrapped my arms around him, needing the strength of him to be real. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Hadrian Rhys.”
His large hand stole across my back. “And here I was, thinking the same thing about you.”
The air between us had changed. There were no longer any secrets. The veil had been lifted, and we were together as one.
United.
Committed to each other in a way I’d never expected.
I trusted him implicitly. I trusted him to protect me from the ruthlessness of theCompagnia Bianca de Falco.
He took me to bed, a relentless, feral beast. It was as if he was proving to me and to himself that he was the one in control. I cried out and tightened around him from the all-consuming pleasure, giving another piece of myself to Hadrian. In his bed, I found honesty and truth. I found absolution and safety. I found what I hadn’t ever expected to find.
A few days later, I stood slightly behind him, prepared to greet the four Moretti men that Hadrian had invited into his home. Wind from the sea whipped the hair I had tied back into a ponytail across my shoulders as Hadrian and I waited on the roof.
“Even though the Moretti and I have a mutually beneficial business relationship, I would never call Angelo a friend. He would never call me a friend either, and it’s rare that these men do business with non-Italians.”
