Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
She relaxed slightly, though there was still a troubled, guarded look shadowing her eyes. As though she didn’t trust him to tell her the truth. But then who could blame her when he’d been such a ruthless bastard?
Feeling himself coming undone one piece at a time, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her ever so tenderly against his heart—her heart. She owned it. He buried his face in her hair, the strands dampening as tears slithered over the tormented lines in his features as he wept silently, hiding his heartbreak and devastation in her silken tresses.
Ah, Angel, my precious, precious love. Letting you go is the hardest damn thing I’ve ever had to do or will ever have to do in my life. Wherever you go, you take my heart. My soul. Everything within me. I’ll always be with you. I’ll dream of you every night, every hour of the day, and pray with every breath that one day you’ll come back where you belong. To me. Until then, I’ll never be whole. You’re my other half. The very best part of me. The only good thing I’ve ever touched, loved, held close to my heart. Without you I am lost.
Could someone live with half a heart and a broken soul so tarnished by a lifetime of sins? She deserved so much better than what he’d given her. She deserved better than the man he was. And yet she’d chosen him and he’d cruelly betrayed her. He stared bleakly down at Evangeline, who lay limply in his arms. It wasn’t true. You didn’t need a heart to live, because his had been walking around outside his body ever since Evangeline had entered his world and effortlessly stolen it. And he’d never have it back, he’d never feel truly alive or live, until—unless—she came back to him.
His heart had lived inside her, a part of her, for the last months and he never wanted it back. Not unless it came as part of her.
33
Evangeline stared through unseeing eyes as the plane touched down in the small municipal airport just half an hour from her hometown. In the seat across the aisle sat Maddox and across from him Silas sat, staring at her in brooding silence.
Such had been the case ever since they’d taken off from New York City, but she’d refused to meet his gaze. She didn’t make eye contact with either Silas or Maddox the entire trip, opting instead to either pretend to sleep or aim her focus out the window. But she could see both men in her periphery and neither was happy. No, they were downright pissed.
That might have set her off; after all, what did they have to be pissed off about? But more predominant than the anger betrayed by their tight, clenched jaws was the very real worry in their eyes.
They took turns studying her, probing as though they were doing a thorough physical exam, and it made her want to squirm right out of her seat. By sheer will alone, she’d forced herself to remain stoic and seemingly unaware of their scrutiny.
She knew they were furious with Drake, and it should have heartened her that their belief in her was so resolute, but all she felt was overwhelming sadness that his men had absolute, unwavering trust in her and hadn’t doubted her for a minute, while Drake, the man she loved, the man she thought had loved her even though he hadn’t given her the words, the man she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with and have his children, had been so quick to denounce her and throw her out. Coldly furious, his eyes icy and impenetrable, looking through her, not at her, not seeing her, not hearing her. No, he’d shut her completely out without a second thought. No hesitation.
She glanced down at her flat abdomen where her—their—child was nestled, no outward sign of its presence as of yet, and she closed her eyes. Well, at least one part of her dream would endure. She would have his child, but only one, and she wouldn’t have any other part of him. Not his love. But then she’d never had his love. Only the foolish notion that he loved her but was too alpha, too stoic, too reserved to say the words. She’d thought he’d shown his love in every way that mattered, and because she believed that he loved her, the words hadn’t been important to her. Only that he did love her. It was enough. Had been enough. But it had all been nothing more than fantasy, and she had only herself to blame for immersing herself in a dream world, ignoring the harsh reality, and for not seeing the truth until it was too late to protect herself from utter devastation.