Even when she had no idea their daughter suffered from a genetic illness, this man had stood in the shadows, protecting them both in his own silent, steadfast way. From the very beginning to this moment, he had never once crossed her bottom line.

That realization was the true catalyst for their reconciliation.

lan buried his face into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her skin. His arm tightened around her waist. Stripped of his ruthless exterior, he looked like a massive, fiercely protective beast that had finally found its way home, seeking only her forgiveness, trust, and affection.

"I swear, from now on, I'll tell you everything. No more hiding. If I ever keep anything from you again, let me—"

Before he could finish, she pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him. "Don't make stupid vows."

His thick eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at her, pressing a tender kiss against her palm. Her heart instantly melted into a puddle.

"Okay," she finally said.

He froze for a second, almost entirely unable to process that she had actually agreed. But when he saw the unwavering sincerity in her eyes, a breathtaking smile broke across his face, warm and radiant as the morning sun.

He pulled her flush against his chest, burying his face in her hair as he kissed her deeply.

He was never letting her go again.

"Did you even sleep last night?" she asked him softly.

"Yeah, I slept," he murmured with a low chuckle, his eyes closed. The truth was, before hearing those words fall from her lips, he had spent the few hours they weren't entangled tossing and turning, agonizing over what she would say. Now, the suffocating tension had finally shattered. He could finally rest.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, pulling back slightly.

She checked in with her body and realized she was starving. She nodded. "A little."

"Let's eat, then we'll stay here and rest for one more night. Our flight is tomorrow afternoon." He glanced down at the unmistakable bruises blooming across her pale neck, a deeply arrogant smirk playing on his lips.

His masterpiece.

She had zero intention of moving anyway. She was completely exhausted, and the view here was gorgeous.

After eating, she took a long shower and sat out on the second-floor balcony. They had supposedly come here to admire the autumn leaves, but she was only just now managing to catch a glimpse of the sunset over the maples.

Autumn nights descended quickly. Having slept away most of the day, her energy had returned. Ian, on the other hand, possessed a terrifying amount of stamina; even without sleep, he was operating at peak intensity.

After they went for a brief walk outside, she nudged him toward the bed, telling him

to get some sleep. Instead, he clung to her hand, obnoxiously affectionate. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

He rested his head in her lap. With her free hand, she gently combed through his hair, her fingers pausing when she noticed the roots. The gray was retreating, replaced by fresh, dark strands. A flicker of immense joy lit up her eyes.

She suddenly missed the days when his hair was entirely black.

"What are you thinking about?" his muffled voice drifted up from her lap.

"Your roots are coming in black," she said softly.

He tilted his head back, grinning up at her. "You're better than any medicine."

It took a second for the implication to hit her. Blushing fiercely, she tugged playfully

at a strand of his hair. "That has absolutely nothing to do with me."

He just laughed, completely content to lay his head on her knee and let her play with

his hair. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowly evening out.

Thinking he had actually fallen asleep, she tried to slip her hand away to grab a blanket for him. The moment she moved, his large hand clamped down over hers, pinning it right back where it was.

"I'm not asleep," he mumbled, his voice thick and husky. "I don't want to waste time sleeping."

She looked down at him. To the rest

down

of the world, he was a ruthless titan of the investment industry, a terrifyingly powerful entrepreneur. Butright now, with her. He was just possessive man pinning her hand to his cheek, refusing to let go.

"Ian Goodwin," she whispered.

"Drop the last name," he grumbled without opening his eyes.

"Don't catch a cold out here. Let's go to bed," she coaxed.

He snapped his eyes open. Though slightly bloodshot, they were dangerously sharp

and blazing with heat. He sat up immediately, interlacing his fingers with hers. "Alright. Let's go to bed."

Seeing the predatory shift in his gaze, her face instantly flushed hot. "Control yourself."

"A little pre-sleep workout is the best

cure for insomnia," he laughed darkly, scooping her effortlessly into his arms. He didn't say another.

.n

word simply holding her in tight, fully intending to spend every second of the night making up for five years of agonizing starvation.

At this rate, he was going to burn through an entire box of protection in just two nights.