Chapter 34

Dagan had spent the last handful of years keeping his heart encased in Kevlar. But Chelsea’s confession blew through the protective armor and pierced deep.

She loves me! Chelsea Duvall loves me! He couldn’t fathom it. And yet, the proof was there in her copper-colored eyes, shining up at him as brightly as a promise, as sweetly as a dream.

Pulling her into his arms, he buried his nose in her hair, loving the way it tickled his cheeks. She wiggled against him, trying to escape, but he just tightened his hold. Now that he had her, really had her, he had no intention of letting go.

She loved him. He loved her. As for anything else? Well, love conquered all, right? They could work it out. Together they could overcome anything.

“Chelsea,” he whispered into her hair. “Babe, if only you could take my heart out and look at it. It’s covered in scars. There are scars from those I’ve lost. Scars from the times I’ve failed. And…a big ol’ scar from you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The scar from where you wiggled your way inside.”

He was prepared for a lot of things after that admission. What he wasn’t prepared for was Chelsea falling apart. She’d always been so stubborn, so tough, and seemingly unbreakable. But as she clung to him, her entire body shaking, he realized that what he had long suspected was true. At Chelsea’s core, she was as soft and tender as a butterfly. Someone to be cherished. Someone to be protected.

“You’ve always made me the best version of myself.” He palmed the back of her head, loving how it was a perfect fit, as if she’d been made just for him. “With you, I can let down my guard. I can’t do that with anyone else. Not even with Avan. Chels, you have always been like…home to me.”

Saying the words out loud made him realize just how true they were. No matter what, he had always run to her, depended on her, relied on her. Wasn’t she the one who had helped him figure out what Senator Aldus had really been up to? Hadn’t she always had his back, even when he hadn’t been worthy of her loyalty?

She loves me! Chelsea Duvall loves me!

“Dagan.” Her voice was muffled by his sweater. But hearing her call him by name had never sounded so sweet. “I—”

“Chels,” he interrupted, scared that she was going to bring up the past or the future again before he had a chance to arrange his thoughts on the subjects. Before he had a chance to think about what he wanted to say. “I believe that love is the strongest force on the planet. I believe that it really can conquer all. Do you?”

“Of course, but—”

“No buts. I know you want to talk about things. I do too. But for right now, would you just let me hold you? Will you stop thinking, stop scrutinizing and analyzing, and just allow us this moment?”

He desperately wanted time to wallow in the knowledge that she loved him, bumps and bruises, scars and warts and all, before reality and the past—or the future—came crashing in.

“Tall order.” She sniffed. “I am an analyst, after all. Thinking and scrutinizing comes with the territory. But, okay. I can give it the ol’ college try. It’s just that… No, no. Never mind. I was about to start analyzing again. Damnit. This is harder than I thought. Maybe we should…but no. That’s more scrutinizing. Please help me stop talking, will you? I can’t do it on my own.” There was genuine pleading in her voice, and something more that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“It’s an easy enough problem to solve,” he assured her. “All it takes is an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?”

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘Let’s put that big four-poster bed to use,’ I’m going to kiss you until you can’t think straight.”

“That’s not much of an ultimatum.” He could still hear that something in her voice. “Either way, we end up in bed.”

“Let no one ever accuse you of being slow on the uptake.”

She softened in his embrace, all her muscles loosening. And hello! Her softening succeeded in making him hard.

Her breasts cushioned heavily against his chest. Her thighs pressed tantalizingly against his legs. And the sweet heat of her seeped into his bones, warming him from the inside out, chasing away the chill of too many long, lonely years.

She loves me! Chelsea Duvall loves me! He would never tire of that refrain. And he planned to show her just how much he loved her in about two seconds.

Glancing at his watch, he calculated how much time he had. Not enough to do it the way he wanted. But enough for Chelsea. The wonderful woman was like a bottle rocket. When it came to sex, she had a quick fuse, burning hot and fast before the final explosion which, by the way, was really loud and—

A knock sounded at the door.

“What?” he barked, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

“Sorry to interrupt!” Emily called, not sounding the least bit sorry. Damn her. “But once again I’m going to ask you kiddies to get your clothes on. Angel arrived early, and he’s itching to get you both loaded into his buddy’s sardine can. Something about tides and currents and what have you. So, chop-chop!”

Chelsea pushed out of Dagan’s arms, taking her soft curves and delicious feminine warmth with her.

“That woman has the worst timing,” he muttered, adjusting his hard-on into a more comfortable position.

“I heard that!” Emily called through the door.

“Go away!” he bellowed. “We’ll be down in a second!”

“I don’t trust you, Romeo! I know just how single-minded you men can be. Chels? Can you hear me? Do you need me to come in and wrestle that big gorilla off you?”

Chelsea caught her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. She looked a little…what? What was that expression? He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what was going on inside that souped-up brain of hers, but before he could get a bead on it, she slipped around him and pulled the bedroom door wide.

“I’d be more than happy to—” Emily cut herself off when she was suddenly staring him square in the face. “Oh, how disappointing. I thought for sure you two were…” She trailed off, narrowing her gaze at the look on Chelsea’s face. Emily turned to him then, attempting murder with her eyes. “What did you do to her?”

“Emily…” Chelsea tried.

But Emily just barged ahead. “What did you say to her?”

“Down, mother bear.” Dagan lifted a staying hand. “I didn’t do anything to her. As far as what I said to her, that’s simple. I told her I love her.”

He was usually a private person. But in this particular instance, he didn’t bother. First of all, because he wanted to wipe that accusing look right off Emily’s face. And second of all, because he wanted to shout his glorious news from the rooftops.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Let it be known far and wide that Dagan Zoelner loves the amazing, talented, and gorgeous Chelsea Duvall. And miracle of miracles! She loves him too!

“Oh.” Emily blinked. Then she said louder, “Oooohhhh. Wow. I just thought you two were visiting Pound Town. But sure, okay.” Emily turned to Chelsea. “Another one bites the dust, huh? I wish I could say I’m happy for you, Chels. But the truth is that I’m jealous as hell. I’ll be the only one left seeing Junior Patrick.”

“Who’s Junior Patrick?” Dagan demanded.

Emily opened her mouth, but Chelsea beat her to the punch. “Never mind that.”

“No. Not never mind that. Who the hell is Junior Patrick?” It was amazing how quickly jealous rage consumed him. Had Chelsea been seeing someone? Had she and Emily both been seeing someone? The same guy?

Chelsea didn’t seem the type. Back up. Rewind. Chelsea wasn’t the type. So what was Emily talk—

“It’s another name for a lady’s best friend,” Emily said.

Huh?

“A battery-operated boyfriend, numb nuts.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t get your boxers in a twist. Jeez.”

“Oh,” he said. Then, “Oooohhhh.”

“Is there an echo in here?” Chelsea demanded, hands on hips Wonder Woman–style.

Dagan lifted a brow, imagining her in bed, pleasuring herself with a vibrator. His little downstairs buddy liked the imagery very much. Too much.

Damnit. He glanced at his watch. He should’ve still had thirty minutes to screw her brains out. He’d have to have a talk with Angel when he saw him. Not sticking to the schedule was wreaking havoc with Dagan’s sexual ambitions.

“And why are we talking about any of this anyway?” There was no mistaking the two red flags of color in Chelsea’s cheeks. She might be one tasty little wildcat in bed, but out of it, she was still a Southern girl. Talk of her adult toy collection—he hoped it was vast. Please let it be vast—embarrassed her. “We shouldn’t keep Angel waiting.”

Dagan tossed an arm around her shoulders. He thought he felt her tense and wondered what that was all about. They’d cleared things up, hadn’t they? They were on the same page, weren’t they?

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll be on our way. But at some point in the future, I expect you to introduce me to Mr. Patrick. I’m curious to meet my competition.”

“Gag me with a very large spoon.” Emily threw her hands in the air. “You two are so adorable that you’re making me sick to my stomach.” She turned and flounced down the stairs.

Chelsea glanced at him through the fan of her sooty lashes. There it was again, that something in her eyes.

He was done trying to figure it out on his own. Best just to sac up and ask. “What is it, babe? What’s bothering you?”

“You really believe love conquers all?” She gnawed on her lower lip.

He gave her the words she needed to hear, promising to prove them to her every day for the rest of his life. “I do, Chels. I really, really do.”