The Paper Swan(100)

He was wiping his face with a towel, and stopped short when he saw me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head. I should have listened to MaMaLu. I should never have come.

“Skye.”

The way he said it damn near broke me. Damian might be all steel on the outside, but his emotions ran deep. He never did anything halfway. When he hated, he hated with every cell in his body, and when he loved . . . God, when he loved, he said your name like that—like a sigh from his soul, wrapped around his tongue.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I sleep here.”

“You sleep . . . here?” I looked around. It explained the clothes on the bed and why he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The warmth emanating from his skin was like a heater in the small space.

“Why would you sleep . . . ?” I stopped. It suddenly hit me why Damian would forego the luxury of Casa Paloma for the staff wing. He didn’t think he belonged there. He didn’t think he was good enough. He might have bought it and restored it, but he would rather be here, where he had last felt loved, where the guilt of what he had done didn’t eat him up. Casa Paloma was mine. Damian had been trying to restore all the things he thought he had taken away from me.

Whether you say yes or no, you will always be my forever.

My eyes welled up. I stared at my feet, trying to stem the rush of emotions that clamored to my throat, words that got clogged because there were so many of them, all fighting to get out.

“Come.” I held out my hand. “Home.” The only two words that managed to escape. I couldn’t fight it anymore. Loving Damian might destroy me, but not loving him was killing me.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I took his hand, turned off the light, and led him to the mansion.

“Wait,” he said at the door. “I don’t—”

“I love you, Damian. Always you. Only you. This is where you belong. With me and Sierra.”

“But you said—”

“I know. I said a lot of things. To you, to myself. Then I remembered what you said. ‘Love don’t die.’ It’s true, Damian. I have never stopped loving you, from the time I was a little girl up in that room. When I follow my heart, it always leads me back to you.”

For a moment, Damian just looked at me. He had what he’d always wanted, but he faced an unexpected hurdle, a final battle. With himself. Was he worthy of redemption? Of love? Of forgiveness? That was something only he could decide for himself.

He leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “I am so tired, güerita. Tired of pretending I can go on without you when all the while it’s breaking my heart. Tell me this is it. Tell me this is forever. You, me, and Sierra.”

I told him what he wanted to hear with a kiss, a whisper soft promise against his lips. All of the muscles in his body relaxed as if he’d finally let go of some heavy burden.

“I want to remember this,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “If I die tonight, I want to die remembering what it was like to hold the whole world in my hands.”

We climbed up the stairs to the master bedroom. When Damian shut the door, my legs started to quake. I never knew what to expect with him. He played my body like a maestro, at times to the rhythm of a harsh, primal beat, at times like a finely tuned rhapsody.

“Take off your pants and get in bed,” he said.

I did as he told me, jittery with nerves and anticipation. I hadn’t been with anyone in eight years. My body had changed after Sierra. I shimmied out of my bra, but kept my top on.

The bed shifted when he slipped in beside me. One arm slid around my shoulder, cradling me to his chest. His skin was warm and smooth under my cheek. God, I’d missed the way he felt, his scent, his touch, the steady beat of his heart.

“Sleep.” He kissed the top of my forehead, stroking my hair like it was made of the finest gold.

I must have registered surprise because he chuckled. I had been expecting a fiery reunion.

“Just this,” he said. “This feels so, so good.”

The last time we’d been together, when Sierra interrupted us, he had been like a raging bull coming out of the pen, and although I could feel his undeniable arousal, I could also feel something else. Damian was content. For the first time, no one was closing in on us, no one was tearing us apart. We had found our way back to each other. We were finally free to be. It was a feeling Damian wanted to savor, something that surpassed lust and desire and carnal pleasure. It was a sense of belonging that blurs the lines between two people, when you find your ankle wrapped around someone else’s, or your fingers intertwined, and it’s so natural, so automatic, that you have no conscious thought of it happening. When I think of God, I think of all these magical, inexplicable things, multiplied by infinity.