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Beatrice wished Montrell was closer. She wished she could hug him. “I doubt he’ll feel the same way.” It had been self-defense, but Beatrice wouldn’t lie to him. She would have killed Maeve either way. The woman deserved it for that dreamy tone she’d used to talk about torturing her young son.
Beatrice’s fingers traced down his face, barely touching so she wouldn’t wake him. “He really is a gentle soul.”
Vespa blew out a breath. “All ooey-gooey inside, that’s for sure.” Her eyes softened as she looked at him. “He was freaking out when you weren’t with us. Nearly passed out when that lunatic assassin tumbled off the balcony with you.”
Beatrice remembered the arms that had wrapped around her. She shuddered at the memory of sudden weightlessness and was relieved she’d passed out.
“I had the best view from the ground, and watching that was wild.” Vespa shook her head. “We’ll need to properly thank the man. I’ll ask Nera about that. Montrell’s regretting not agreeing to rescue him back when he needed it.”
“How did—?” Sweat beaded on Beatrice’s forehead. “Never mind. I don’t need the details.”
“Makes you woozy to think about, doesn’t it?” Vespa said with a smirk. “Montrell was there to help carry you down from the fire escape. Had trouble easing his hold on you for the eventual doctor. He’s been at your side since.” Her humor fell as she studied Beatrice. “A broken arm and that hyena’s scratches,” Vespa murmured. “It sucks, but it could have been worse. A lot worse.” Her gaze fell. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“Me too,” Beatrice said.
“See?” Montrell mumbled. “I knew you two would be friends.” His eyes opened as his hand wrapped around hers, bringing it to his lips.
“Let’s not go overboard,” Vespa said with a grimace. She turned her back, striding toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to be all lovey-dovey together. Then we’ll talk about next moves.” The door clicked shut behind her.
Montrell straightened, scooting the chair closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?” He winced. “No, don’t answer that.”
Beatrice turned her hand in his, squeezing it. “Like I’m alive.”
His eyes slowly scanned her body. It was as if he paused at each and every scratch. “I’m sorry.” His voice deepened. “I’m so fucking sorry. I never should have—”
Her hand covered his mouth to stem his words. She always expected his facial hair to bristle against her fingers, but it was thick and soft. Her hand trailed over to cup his cheek. Him leaning into her touch was everything. “I love you, Montrell.” His eyes shimmered at her words. “My heart, my mind—it’s all filled with you. Thank you.”
His lips parted. “But—”
She tugged lightly on his beard to quiet him. “Thank you, Montrell. Thank you for coming to Vegas. I’m so glad I married you. I’m so happy you are who you are.” Her head slid along the pillow in a small shake. “It’s a miracle, the person you are. And I love you, no matter what happens.”
His eyes closed, and there was moisture on his lashes.
She tugged again. “Lean down here so I can kiss you.”
He moved his face closer. Their kiss wasn’t full of passion. It was soft, gentle, and achingly sweet.
His nose rubbed against hers when their lips parted. “I love you, too, Bea. So much.”
“Then get into bed with me. I want your arms around me.”
Montrell hesitated, his gaze shifting to her arm.
“You told me I get to do whatever I want. I know you’ll be careful.”
Montrell lifted her like she was made of broken glass that might cut him at any second. He settled her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her middle and his chin grazing the top of her head. His warmth helped to chase the last of the tension from her body.
She closed her eyes. “I’m not sorry I killed her.”
His head shifted, and his lips passed over her hair. “I’m not mad at you, Bea. I wish I’d been able to protect you better.”
Drowsiness drifted through her. “I feel safe like this.”
“You’ll always be safe with me.”
“I know.” She smiled at the truth of the words. “I really do know that. Fair warning. I might become the clingy type of wife.”
His surprised chuckle rumbled beneath her. “Cling away, but I might end up liking it.” His arms tightened just a little more. “A lot.”
