J.R. Ward: Rapture

God willing.

Easing back, he brushed her hair behind her ears. “There’s one thing you have to know—I’m not going to give myself up.”

“To authorities?”

“If I do, I’ll get killed in jail. Maybe it’s by an operative, maybe an old enemy—but I…I’ve already done my time in a prison. I’ve paid my dues.”

That stint in Hell had been just as he deserved, and though on earth the stay might have been measured in days, down below it had been an eternity, a life sentence carried out.

“And I vow to you, no more lying, no more deceit, nothing. I’ll pack groceries for a living, I’ll be a meter maid, I’ll…I don’t know what. But I’ll figure something out, and it’s going to be honest.”

Mels studied his face, then ran her hand over his cheek to his jaw. “If you’re at peace, I’m at peace,” she murmured. “Who am I to judge? And it’s funny, my father would have liked your way of doing business. I’m not saying it’s okay, it’s just…you’ve always been good for me, and maybe it makes me selfish, but that’s what matters. Well, that and you did right by coming forward and exposing everything.”

“That part of my life is over. Forever.” Thanks in large part to her…and to Jim Heron…he just didn’t have that evil in him anymore.

As she started to smile, Matthias kissed her again, lingering on her mouth, holding the curves of her body tight.

“I love you,” he said.

His woman returned the words against his lips and he drank them in, drank all of this in, the salvation, the relief, the sheer joy of being with her. And he thought also of Jim Heron, and how much he owed the guy.

He wasn’t going to see the man again; he knew it in his bones. And that was…okay. Everything was okay as long as he had Mels—

A yap brought their heads up and around.

Dog had gone into the kitchen and was sitting by the refrigerator, one paw in the air.

Just as well, Matthias thought. He was a heartbeat away from ripping Mels’s clothes off.

As they got to their feet and went into the kitchen, he asked, “Any chance that sandwich is turkey?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Matthias leaned in and kissed his woman. “Perfect. Dog loves that.”

“Then he can have every bit that’s left, and anything else that’s in the fridge.”

As they opened the door, the animal circled their feet, tail going, limp not slowing him or dimming his enthusiasm in the slightest.

Matthias kissed his woman once more.

Then they got down on their knees and took care of the little guy, feeding the sandwich piece by piece…together.

After all, it was the least he could do, Matthias thought. Considering God had given him everything he’d asked for…and couldn’t live without.