Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(120)

“Look, this is great and all, but I’m really uncomfortable sitting here trying not to stare at you like a moon-eyed cow, so could you please just say what you wanted to say so I can get out of here and go cry alone?”

Vincent laughs and pushes his chair back, shaking his head ruefully as he holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet.

“I should have known you would come back sooner or later. Took you bloody long enough, though,” he growls, pulling me along behind him to a door leading down to the basement.

“What’s going on?”

“Just…” He pauses halfway down the well-lit, sturdy steps and looks back at me uncertainly. “I want to show you something, and…I hope it doesn’t upset you, but I need to be honest about everything, and…just don’t hate me.”

I nod silently and follow him, my nerves strung so tight I know I’m digging my fingernails into his hand. He doesn’t protest though, and I relax when we come to the bottom and meet a door.

His hand trembles when he pulls away and unlocks it, hovering uncertainly over the door knob.

“Vincent.”

“Please, let me explain after you see,” he whispers softly, swinging the door open and standing back, head bent.

What I see makes my knees weak, and I’m so grateful I hadn’t let out that nervous crack about serial killers and dead bodies in the basement. The room that I step into is climate controlled and pristine, nothing at all like a basement, and—

“Oh my God.”

“Dove.”

The walls are covered in art. All of the pieces from my original series, the first ones that had sold out immediately and prompted Vern to set up another showing. Two from the new show and every single one I’d sent him just days ago in the hope that he’d see them for what they are, an expression of my love.

This room is a shrine, I realize, turning in a circle to see the extent of Vincent’s true obsession. Me. In that moment I know he loves me, even without him having to say it.

“Oh God,” I cry, covering my face and shaking as sobs of pure relief course through me.

He loves me. He really does love me.

Most women would look at this and run shrieking from the house, because honestly, this is the most stalkerish thing I’ve ever seen. Not me, though. How can I be anything but flattered that he’d wanted me enough to be satisfied with any part of me he could get his hands on?

“Dove, please don’t cry,” he begs, stepping close enough that I feel his heat but far enough away to give me space.

“I love you too, Vincent,” I whisper raggedly, lifting my eyes to his so that he can see how badly I mean it. “I’ve always loved you.”

His breath stutters out in a series of what I can only call gasps, and then I’m in his arms and being kissed so fiercely I taste the salt of my tears and inhale his whispered thanks.

“I thought you hated me,” he breathes, pulling away to stare into my eyes. “When we got back to the city I had resolved to tell you how I felt, but you blindsided me with the divorce.”

“Oh, Vincent.”

He laughs, shaking his head, and looks at me ruefully.

“I ripped those papers to shreds and started plotting to get you back. I was so determined that you’d be mine again, I never considered for a moment that we’d ever be parted for more than a few weeks,” he admits sheepishly, ducking his head.

I giggle at his arrogance, recalling the ‘loss’ of the papers and his snarky comments when I’d called him to set up a meeting with his lawyer.

“Your belongings from Georgia finally arrived the morning we were to meet and I…I saw the painting,” he says heavily, making me gasp in horror that he’d ever seen that terrible example of my bitter rage.

I should have burned that thing the minute the paint dried, and I say so, caressing his cheek lovingly.

“You made me seem so cold and dark, and I realized that’s what you thought of me. You showed me in such a ruthless light that I couldn’t stand to look at myself, much less expect you to look at me. To go from the unconditional love I’d had before to that level of hatred.” He stops and swallows heavily. “That’s when I knew that no matter how much I loved you I had to let you go. I couldn’t bear to be the reason that all your happiness, all that color you had once brought to life, was gone.”

“No, listen—”

He kisses me once, hard, and pulls me back into his arms, holding me to his rapidly beating heart.

“I was miserable without you, dove. I only went to that bloody wedding to make you jealous! All of my hopes were answered when you reacted so violently to my being with another woman. God, after we made love, I was euphoric.”