Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Today is a reminder of your strength. I’m sorry for your pain, and I’m here with all my love.
I cried when I read it.
Leaving a note rather than smothering me all day with pity and concern was exactly what I needed.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
He’s doing everything right, and it’s slowly, painfully breaking me.
As I stare into his stern, overprotective eyes, I feel nothing but love.
Love for the man I married.
Love for the man he’s become.
I love him.
He lost me, and that changed him. It ripped him open, deepened him, and made him emotionally stronger.
Nothing is more breathtaking than a man who knows the salty taste of his own tears. A man who owns his mistakes as if they’re tattooed on his bones with holy ink.
A year ago, I didn’t believe he was my soul mate.
But the man standing before me with a broken heart and imperfect love in his eyes? He fits disturbingly, achingly, perfectly in my soul. And I’m in his. He never let me go.
“I’m sorry about Doyle.” His hand twitches at his side. “I’ll find you another therapist.”
“I don’t need another therapist. I need to go back to work.”
“It’s too dangerous.” His eyes darken, flashing with anger. “You know that.”
“I do, but I can’t continue like this. I need to feel useful again, to have a purpose.”
“What about your safety?”
“I don’t know, Monty. You have all this security everywhere. You’re rich and powerful and can destroy someone’s life with the snap of your fingers.”
“I don’t do that.”
“But you can. I’m going back to work. Snap your fingers and make it happen.”
“Christ.” He sighs quietly. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
“Thank you.” I pat his jaw and stride away.
“Frankie.”
“Hm?” I pause, glancing back.
“Are you happy?”
I pull in a breath and give him the truth. “No. I’m not. But I’m working on it.”
“Put on that green dress. The one with the…” He gestures at his sternum.
“The low plunge halter? That’s a fancy dress, Monty.”
“I’m taking you to dinner.”
“Off the island?”
When he inclines his head, a thrill jolts through me.
I haven’t left the island since the night Leo and Kody were arrested.
Two months ago.
Before he can change his mind, I race off to the guest bedroom to prepare.
39
Frankie
—
Sitka’s priciest restaurant flaunts elegance and refined taste with a flair for luxury, much like the man sitting across from me.
Monty took care of everything, from the chauffeured ride here to the private dining room and the precise ordering of our meals.
His black tailored suit fits him like a glove, enhancing the sculpted contours of his lean, muscular body. The intensity of his blue eyes, set against the harsh angles of his shaved jawline and raven-black hair, captivates and intimidates.
At age fifty, his commanding demeanor and stern bearing make him a formidable presence, his wealth and influence casting a long shadow over the restaurant when we walked in.
Hell, that shadow stretches across the entire state of Alaska.
Flickering candles adorn the small table between us, the romantic setting too intimate for the state of our relationship.
The bourbon arrives first, just as I like it, with dark, juicy cherries. I quickly slug it down, the warmth of the alcohol soothing my nerves.
He watches me, those arctic eyes never leaving mine. Sharp and penetrating, they reflect the icy waters surrounding his private island.
“You look stunning.” His deep, velvety baritone strokes me in places it has no business stroking.
“Thank you. I feel like a haggard old sea witch next to you. Every woman in the restaurant drooled on their filet mignon when you stepped in the door. They’re all going to go home tonight and watch billionaire porn until their fingers go numb.”
He smirks. “I didn’t notice them.”
“Liar.”
“In a crowd, my eyes always find you. No one else exists.”
A thousand stupid butterflies take flight in my belly, winging toward certain death. “You can’t say things like that.”
“I can do whatever I want, darling.”
“Whatever and whomever, apparently.”
“I will never hurt you like that again.”
“It was petty of me to bring it up. I’ve forgiven you.”
“I haven’t forgiven myself. I will apologize and grovel for the rest of my life.”
“Please, don’t.” I stare down at my bourbon, the memory of that video playing in my mind. “After I saw the recording of you with her, I swore I would never love again. I would never trust another man.”
“I know.” His jaw tightens. “I hate myself for that.”
“I don’t. Despite my resentment, I fell in love again. Leo and Kody brought me back to life, gave me something to hold onto, and proved that I’m not broken.”
He takes a deep breath, gearing up to say something, but the server enters with a delicate assortment of oysters, caviar, and lobster bisque.
Each bite is a luxurious experience, but I can barely taste it. My mind whirls with all the things unsaid between us.