Chapter 19
Coming Home
The jet landed in New York. It was strange being in a city that was not Folsom. There were familiar structures and the same recognizable metropolitan pulse, but they were still very far from home. However, she wasn’t homesick.
They stayed the night at Lucian’s brownstone in Manhattan because he’d arranged an appointment with a doctor to remove his cast the following day. The narrow house was compact, but luxurious nonetheless. They’d dined at a renowned steak house, and on the way home Evelyn had a sort of epiphany.
Lucian had so many houses, but she wasn’t sure which was his home. “Where do you live?” she asked as they climbed the steps to the brownstone.
“Pardon?”
“You have so many houses. Which one do you consider home?”
He tilted his head and unlocked the door. “I’m not sure. The estate is my home, but so is the hotel. I love Ireland, but I also love England.”
She toed off her shoes and faced him. “Is one your favorite?”
“They’re all different now,” he said shaking his head.
“Different how?”
“Whenever I think of Ireland, I’ll think of you singing in the pub. And the ocean off the coast of Florida was never as beautiful as when your toes first touched the water. Artifacts and historic places of England I see with new appreciation, because of seeing them through your eyes. And even my condo in Folsom . . . that’s always been my central home, but when you left it was nothing more than a cell. I think . . . you’re home. Wherever you are is where I want to be.”
She blinked as emotion snuck up on her. “I feel the same way,” she whispered, going up on her toes to kiss him. “Make love to me, Lucian.”
He led her up the stairs and together they stripped off their clothes. When their bodies came together it was a joining of souls. He was her shelter. He was her peace.
She had nothing to offer him other than herself, but that was all he ever seemed to truly want of her. Over the past weeks, she understood so much more about who he was, and for the first time, she saw herself.
She was no longer a girl, but a woman. No longer was she racing against all odds to find the security she’d always coveted. She had everything she needed right there in the arms of the man she loved.
Her body writhed beneath his weight as he filled her. For him, she was a vessel of surrender, and for her he was a tower of strength. She realized home, for either of them, did not come in the shape of walls, but in the sense of heart. He showed her how to love and she, somehow, taught him the same.
As they lay beneath the shadows of night, holding one another tightly, she thought of all her fears over the years. When would she eat? Where would she sleep? How would she stay warm? Lucian had become a safe harbor for her to always come back to, but he was so much more than the reliable security she assumed she wanted. He was her solace, her happiness, her reason for laughter, and her desire for so much more.
For the first time in her life, she was able to imagine a future without considering Pearl. She could go wherever she wanted, be whomever she chose. She was free, but held safe. Not out of obligation or because he had become a liability to her heart, but because she wanted him.
On the nightstand, she saw a felt-tip pen and paper. Lucian’s fingers trailed over her breasts as the two of them gazed at the ceiling in contentment. She reached for the pen and sat up.
“What are you doing?” he said, grumbling that she interrupted their comfort.
“Give me your hand.” He held out his right hand. “No, the other one.”
His brow crinkled, but he gave her the hand covered in the cast. She looked down at the plaster bandage, remembering how frightened she’d been that day. Turning his wrist, she uncapped the pen with her teeth and pressed it to the scratchy surface. Her hand moved with practiced effort.
MARRY ME
Lucian looked at her inscription and stilled. His shoulders rose, as he seemed to let out a breath he’d been holding for far too long. When he gazed up at her, there were tears in his eyes, shimmering like dark puddles in the moonlight. He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips.
A soft, gravelly laugh slipped past his throat. She didn’t know what was so funny, then he leaned over to his side of the bed and produced a familiar box. It was her ring. “I’ve been lugging this thing around for months, waiting for the right moment, and you beat me to it.”
Her face split with a grin as relief rushed through her veins. “I didn’t know if you’d ever ask again.”
“It’s all I’ve wanted to ask.” He opened the box. There was her favorite stone, polished into several fine pearls nestling the most beautiful diamond she’d ever seen in her life. He withdrew the ring. His voice was soft, full of emotion. “Evelyn, be my queen, protect me, stand by me, love me, and I promise to always do the same.”
The ring slid on her finger and fit perfectly. She admired the way the stones and the diamond winked in the moonlight. Gazing back at Lucian, she whispered, “Yes.”
Every night, every chill, every ache, suddenly fell into place. This was what she was meant for. In a world of uncertainty, she’d never before felt like she belonged as she did in that moment, in his arms. He was hers. And for the first time, a true sense of peace opened her heart. For he was the most valuable thing she’d ever owned.