Her Sister's Fiancé - Book #1

Chapter 26

He paused at the base of the stairs, his eyes locking on Cassandra who stood looking down at him. Her features were pale, and she opened her mouth to speak, but her words didn't come fast enough for him. Fairly flying up the stairs, Ethan bolted into his wife's room, and beheld. . .

    A pair of large doe eyes gazing at him. Alive. She was alive. A ragged breath tore through his body, and a lump blocked his breath. Staggering across the room, he collapsed at the side of the bed, unable even to speak.

    "Ethan." Never had anything sounded so good to him before! Her hand moved slightly, and he clasped it in his own, pressing it to his lips. "What's happened? I can't—" She drew a shaky breath. "There was—darkness, such—horrible darkness, and I was all alone. You weren't there, and I was so scared that you'd gone for good, and I would never see you again." Her dark brows drew gently together.

    "My wife," Ethan whispered, finally finding his breath. "You will never, ever have to fear my leaving, for as long as there is breath in my body, I will always return to you." His skin looked abnormally dark against her almost paper-white skin.

    "Wife." She looked to their linked hands for a moment, speaking slowly as if testing the sound of the word on her tongue. "I—So it wasn't a dream." Her eyes found his again.

    In answer, he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead, her temple, her cheek, and then her lips. Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned into her. She weakly responded to his caresses, her arms feebly wrapping around him and holding him close.

    "Ethan, are you all right?" She whispered gently when they broke apart. It was then he realized tears had found their way down his cheeks.

    "I thought I'd lost you forever." He choked on the words, gazing down at her as though he thought she might melt away into the dreamworld.

    She returned his gaze, her gentle eyes tearing at his heart. For a moment, he wished he would have killed Manuel with his own hands for what the vile man had done to his wife, but the moment passed when he remembered the sentence that would have been passed on him had he committed the deed.

    "What is it?" Lavinia's features were marred with concern, and he realized he'd been frowning.

    "I was just thinking." He heaved a sigh, trying to erase the thoughts from his mind.

    "About Manuel?" He looked at her quickly and nearly lost himself in her eyes.

    "Yes." He replied shortly.

    She brushed the hair back from his forehead, her light touch setting his skin on fire. Again, his mind drew him helplessly into the deep whirlpool of grief that would have overshadowed his world had that bullet gone a little truer to course. Realizing—not for the first time—just how much she meant to him, he grasped her hand almost fiercely in his and pressed her palm to his lips.

    "Tell me." She weakly drew his head closer to her. "Tell me what's haunting you."

    "It should have been me." He whispered, running a gentle hand over her dark hair. "I should have been the one lying close to death for all this time. It was me that drew him there."

    "Sh, you couldn't have changed anything." She heaved a heavy, quaking breath.

    A knock at the door interrupted whatever he might have been about to say, and at his command, the door swung open. Ezra moved into the room, his features pale.

    "Livy." He breathed, a smile of relief touched his lips as he walked to the foot of the bed.

    "Papa." Lavinia smiled weakly at her father.