"No, you wouldn't," she answered for him. "Of course you wouldn't."
"I don't . . ."
"What about when we were on our honeymoon and I danced with Sasha Tisdale? You nearly went purple with jealousy."
"You still remember that jerk's name?" he asked incredulously. The same jealousy flared in his eyes again, and she grinned irreverently.
"Well he was really, really good looking," she reminded, and he glowered, starting to look less shocked and more like the arrogant man she knew and loved beyond all reason.
"Seriously? You think that second ‘really' was warranted?"
"I only left off the third one in deference to your fragile ego," she teased. "Bryce, you were beyond irrational about that dance. You were jealous and possessive but nowhere near violent. Now, I'm no expert, but from what I've read about abusive spouses, they barely need an excuse to trigger the violence. Even when you were emotionally hurtful-even then-you were punishing yourself more than me." She switched to sign language. It's just not in your nature to be violent.
How do you know that? How can you be sure? he asked, his eyes were filled with anguished uncertainty, and she cupped his jaw before going up on her toes to plant a kiss on his gorgeous mouth.
"Because even at your most irrational, when I thought you were kicking me out of the house and then after my return when you seemed to hate me so much . . . I never once feared you. Not once, Bryce."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, shutting his eyes and ducking his head. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm . . ."
She stopped his words with a soft kiss, and his eyes opened and met hers. She ended the kiss with a smile.
"I know you are," she acknowledged. "I forgive you, Bryce, and I love you very much."
"You do?"
She nodded.
"Of course I do. I don't think that our problems have been miraculously resolved by any means. I think that we have a long, hard road ahead of us actually. But I think that we can finally move forward."
"I've been going back to therapy," he admitted softly. "It's been . . . helpful."
"I hope that we can go together sometime," she said, and he nodded.
"I'd like that." He stared down at her with something like awe in his eyes before shaking his head in disbelief. "How the hell did I get so lucky?"
"I got lucky too, you know," she pointed out, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Last night I said that I fell in love with a man not a superhero. But you know what? You are my hero, Bryce."
"How can you say that after everything that's happened and everything that you've heard tonight?"
"Bryce, if anything, tonight has taught me that you're the kind of man who would place himself squarely between his family and any threat. Of course you're a hero. Mine, Kayla's, Rick's . . . never doubt that."
Bryce stared down into the tear-ravaged face of this woman who meant the world to him and saw sincerity shining up at him. It was in her eyes and in her smile, and the relief that coursed through his body nearly buckled his knees. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he really felt like everything was going to work out. That somehow, against all odds, he had managed to redeem himself and win his wife back. The panic and fear that he'd been living with for more than two years-no, even longer than that-since they had first married, was dissipating and he felt years younger. He captured her mouth with his own and kissed her with desperation that bordered on obsessive. When he eventually felt able to let her go, they were both flushed and breathless.
"I'm going to marry you someday, Bronwyn Kirkland Palmer," he told her with a cocky grin, and she licked her lips dazedly.
"Do you have a timeline on that wedding date, Mr. Palmer?" she asked him sweetly.
"Hey, don't rush me, lady. We've only just started dating. I have big plans for this courtship, you know."
"Oh? What kind of plans?" she asked, curious, rubbing her body sensuously against his. He smiled gently before cupping her face and tilting her head back for another one of his drugging kisses.
"You're just going to have to wait and see," he muttered, his voice alive with promise.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
TWO MONTHS LATER
I haven't been back here since before the accident," Bryce told Bronwyn as they stepped into their beautiful holiday home in Knysna. They had arrived after dark and so had missed out on the house's spectacular panoramic views of the gorgeous lagoon and Knysna Heads. Still, the serenity of the place was reflected in the sounds of the quietly chirruping night insects and the susurration of the gentle waves lapping at the shore. Bronwyn was filled with mixed emotions as she stepped into the huge stone foyer. The last time she had been here hadn't been a happy time for her, and as she glanced around the gorgeously appointed house, all she could see was her former self disconsolately drifting from room to room like a lonely little ghost as hope faded to despair with every passing minute.
The domestic staff had been in before their arrival since the place was freshly cleaned and the refrigerator restocked for their weekend here. He hadn't told her that this was where he was bringing her, but she had easily recognized the unmistakable Garden Route and had known for hours where they were headed. The drive had become more and more tense with every kilometer that the car ate up, and the last hour had been mostly quiet without Kayla around to break the silence. They had asked Rick and Lisa to take the little girl for this weekend that Bryce had so carefully been planning for weeks.
Bronwyn wandered into the living room and he trailed after her, dropping their bags in the hallway. She made her way to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the tranquil lagoon. Because of the pitch-blackness outside, she could see nothing but her own troubled reflection staring back at her, and she tracked Bryce's movements as he came up to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her slender shoulders and tugged her back until she was leaning against his chest. She went willingly into his loose embrace, her head tilting back until it rested just below his shoulder. His strong arms folded around her narrow waist, his hands rested against her abdomen, and his lightly stubbled jaw nuzzled into the nook just below her ear. She could feel his gentle, warm breath washing against the sensitive skin of her ear as he exhaled deeply.
"I know this place holds some pretty unhappy memories for you," he murmured, his lips brushing against her earlobe as he spoke. "I want to replace those memories with sweeter ones."
She dropped her hands and entwined her fingers with his.
"Will you give me the chance do that for you, Bron?" he asked thickly, and she blinked away the tears before nodding. She watched his reflection in the glass and saw the naked relief on his face at her response.
"Thank you," he said before sucking her delicate lobe into his mouth. She dragged in a harsh breath at the sensation. His hands moved to the curve of her waist, and he turned her around before she fully understood what his intention was. She had her hands braced against his broad chest and could feel the accelerated beat of his heart as he stared down into her eyes. He had looped his arms around her waist and his hands were now resting just above the curve of her behind.
"It's been years since I kissed you last," he observed urgently, his eyes dropping down to her lips and dilating when she sucked her full lower lip into her mouth to moisten it.
"It has been years," she agreed-even though it had been mere hours. Ever since they had started seeing each other again, they had been getting increasingly hot and heavy with the petting, and while they had gotten close to making love, they had always stopped before the point of no return. Neither of them wanted to muddy the waters with sex before they both felt that their relationship was strong enough to withstand all emotional and physical obstacles. They would not rush into bed until they were both completely ready for it. Somehow, by unspoken mutual agreement, they knew that this weekend would see them consummating their new relationship. Bryce had known it when he had planned the trip, and Bronwyn had known it when she had agreed to go with him.
He groaned and dropped his hungry mouth onto hers and just about ate her alive. Bronwyn met his desperate kiss with feverish concentration, her tongue dueling with his in a battle for supremacy. The kiss eventually gentled, and his hands lifted to cup her face as he tilted her head for easier access to her mouth. He loved holding her face when he kissed her; his thumbs were always restlessly stroking her soft skin, brushing over her cheekbones and tracing the delicate line of her jaw. After a long while, he eased up, his tongue retreated, and his mouth softened as he feathered butterfly kisses on her lips and up over her cheeks and down into her neck.