Page 118 of Coldhearted King

Relief floods through me, and without thinking, I step forward, sinking the fingers of one hand into her soft hair and curving them around the back of her neck so I can pull her closer to me. “I like what I see too,” I murmur.

“Is that so?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yes. In fact, I don’t just like what I see. I love what I see.”

She wets her lips, her eyes locked on mine. “You do?”

“I love it,” I say, hoping she can hear the sincerity in my voice. “I love what I see so much that I don’t think I can live without seeing it anymore.” My eyes drift over her face, drinking in every detail.

Her breath turns uneven. “I had the impression you didn’t believe in love.”

“I didn’t believe in much of anything until I met you,” I admit. “You showed me what love looks like, how it feels. There’s no going back now.”

“Did I show you how to hold on to it?” Her question hangs in the air, uncertainty threaded through it.

I know what she’s asking, and I trace her lower lip with my thumb. “Delilah, I will never let you go again. It’s not an option for me. Before you, my life was empty—Iwas empty—and I didn’t even know it. I can’t go back to that. I won’t. And I’m not just saying that because I need you to forgive me and love me again. I mean it. I willalwaysmean it. I won’t let anything come between us. Not money, not my company, nothing. You are the most important thing to me. You’ve changed everything, and I can’t imagine going back to the way I was before, thinking wealth and power were enough to make me happy. It’s you, Delilah. You’re what makes me happy.”

Her eyes glisten, even as the corners of her mouth lift in a smile so full of joy that I swear the heart I once thought was cold and dead is going to smash its way through my chest. She tips her head to the side, her long dark hair tumbling over her shoulder. “I never knew you were so poetic.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

Her lips part and she goes up on her toes. Sensing her intention, I twist my hand in her hair to stop her from closing the distance between our lips. Because I need her to know without any doubt. I keep my gaze fixed on hers. “I love you, Delilah. It took me too long to admit it to myself, and not because I didn’t feel it—fuck, it was because I was feeling too much of everything I’d never felt before. But now that I’ve said it, I don’t plan to stop. Maybe one day, if you forgive me, you’ll be able to say it ba—”

She doesn’t let me finish, her hands framing my face. “I love you, Cole. I never stopped, as much as I wanted to. And I won’t make you wait for me to say it, because I’ve already forgiven you.” And right there, in her mother’s garden, with the setting sun bathing her in golden light, she kisses me.

I let her take the lead for a few seconds, reveling in a moment where I can taste her again. Then I take over, reclaiming her mouth the way I intend to reclaim her body later. My hands roam over her curves, dropping to her ass so I can pull her flush against me. She moans into my mouth, her hands twisting in my shirt as if she never wants to let go. And I plan to make sure she doesn’t. Because I won’t. I’m never leaving her side again. I had everything I wanted when I was growing up, but not the thing I needed most. Now that I have it, I’ll cherish it as if it’s the most valuable thing in the world. Because it is.

She is.

And I’ll spend every damn day from here on out proving it to her.

EPILOGUE

DELILAH

Mom reaches over the table and squeezes my hand. “I could get used to this.”

I look around at the restaurant we’re dining in tonight. It’s fancy, even by Cole’s standards, and although he and I eat in fancy restaurants quite often, we also cook at home a lot now. Cole has turned out to be quite the promising home chef. Late-night grilled cheese is still our favorite, and we need it a lot to keep our energy up.

But tonight is a special occasion—Mom’s birthday. Cole sent his private jet to pick her up and fly her to New York for the weekend. We’re putting her up in one of Cole’s hotel suites, all expenses paid. I think we’re all grateful for that bit of privacy during her visit. Cole insists on giving me multiple orgasms every night, and he doesn’t like it when I’m quiet. I don’t think any of us want to be traumatized by my mom having to listen to that.

Speaking of Cole, I look around for him. A few minutes ago, he’d excused himself to make a call, and gone outside. I was surprised he’d left in the middle of Mom’s birthday dinner for work, but I know he wouldn’t leave for something that wasn’t important.

Across from me, Mom’s smile freezes, her gaze fixed on something over my shoulder.

I turn to look at what’s caught her attention and my heart sinks.

You have got to be kidding me.

It’s been years since I last saw my father. As far as I know, he spends most of his time in Europe with his family. So how can he possibly be here now?

I turn back to Mom. “I can’t believe it. Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”

“Just ignore him.” Mom focuses on me and shakes her head. “It’s all he deserves.”

She’s right. I smile and she returns it. She looks lovely tonight. I hope that when I’m her age, nineteen years from now, I’m as elegant and beautiful as she is.

“I have something for you when we get back to the house,” I say. “Another present.”

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