Page 19 of Guardian's Touch

“We didn’t really hurt her,” he babbles as I approach. “She’s fine. We were only supposed to hold her here.”

“And you did your job.” He whimpers when I raise the Glock. “Now, you’re finished.” His head snaps back and his body falls once I’ve pulled the trigger.

“Leave them here,” I decide, glancing around at my men. “Get moving. We want to be gone before the cavalry arrives.” I'm already moving, on my way to the door, out to the car where Camilla waits for me.

She's curled in a ball, knees against her chest, Frank's jacket draped over her legs. As soon as I have the door open she reaches for me, practically jumping into my lap and burying her face in my neck. Weren't we sitting like this back at the house, before this happened? It only took a few hours for everything to change.

“You’re safe,” I whisper, rocking her while she trembles in my arms. My Camilla. My everything. Safe again in the arms of the man willing to kill for her.

“I was so scared.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. No one will ever hurt you again.”

“But I knew you would find me,” she sobs. Her tears rolled down my neck, soaking into my shirt, but I welcome them. They're proof that she's here, with me. Where she belongs.

“I wouldn't let anything keep me from you.” I kiss her forehead, my stomach turning at the bruises on her cheek. But they'll fade, like the memory of this will fade with time.

One thing that will never fade is my determination to keep her by my side from now on. No matter what it takes. I will never leave her vulnerable again.

“I love you,” I murmur, pulling my head back when she lifts hers. “I love you, Camilla.”

“I love you, Dane,” she whispers, smiling in spite of her tears and her pain. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

“You and me from now on. Agreed?”

She nods. “Does this mean I don't have to go to Yale?”

I have to chuckle at her perseverance. Even now, she’s single-minded. One more thing to love about her, even if it drives me crazy. A small price to pay. “Are you kidding? You'll be lucky if I ever let you out of my sight again.”

EPILOGUE

Camilla

One year later.

The sound of Dane’s voice steals my concentration from the book I’m reading in bed. I don’t know how long he’s been staring at me from the bathroom doorway. “You are fucking amazing. Look at you.”

“I look like a beached whale,” I remind him with a sigh, looking down over the length of my body. At least, I'd be able to do that if there wasn't a basketball blocking the way. I can't remember the last time I saw my feet without looking in a full-length mirror.

He scowls, shaking his head in disapproval. “We do not share the same opinion.” He drops the towel he was using to dry himself off after his shower, and his swaying erection tells me he's not just saying things to make me feel better.

But then he never does. I know he means it, even if I can’t fathom how it’s possible. If anything, he seems even more drawn to my body than he was before I got pregnant and started swelling up. He can’t keep his hands off me.

He’s not the only one whose hormones are working overtime, though. I thought I was obsessed with him before? Pregnancy has made my cravings unbearable, and not just the ones having to do with food. Lucky for me, he never has to be talked into taking a little time to satisfy my needs.

“And I still get another month of this?” he asks, stepping up to the side of the bed with his dick in one hand. “I could jerk off just looking at you. You are so beautiful, so fucking hot.”

It isn't only the sight of him that gets me going now. I mean, it still does—I'll never get tired of looking at him and knowing he's mine, that I don't have to hold myself back anymore.

It's the love in his eyes, radiating from him. His love for me, his desire for me, all it does is deepen the love I already felt until I'm sure I'll die from happiness. How did I get so lucky?

“Don't waste a good hard-on,” I purr, lifting my nightgown above my hips and rolling onto my side. “Give it to me.”

“No panties,” he observes in a soft voice.

“They only get in the way,” I remind him, shrugging as I look back at him. “When I want you, I don’t feel like waiting.”

“Listen to you. Who taught you to talk like that?” He climbs onto the bed, lying behind me, and we both sigh deeply when he parts my lips and drives himself deep. The first thrust is still magic, that sense of being filled.

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