I Thee Take: To Have and To Hold Duet Book Two by Knight, Natasha (ready to read books .txt) 📗

My heart flutters, my belly doing a tumble and I’m still not sure I heard right. Not sure I understand. I reach up to touch the scruff of hair on his jaw. More than two days’ worth now.

“Specifically, I didn’t think I’d fall in love with stubborn as hell Scarlett De La Cruz.” We look at each other, just look at each other. “I love you, Scarlett.”

“I love you, too, Cristiano.”

He wipes away the tear that slips from my eye. I see the shadows under his, dark like he hasn’t rested in days. Years.

“You didn’t sleep.”

He shakes his head.

“What happened with your brother?”

It’s cold when his arms fall away from me. He steps back, sits in his chair and sighs deeply. “I have more enemies than I can count.”

I sit on his lap and slip my hand into his. He takes it, intertwines his fingers with mine and looks at our bound hands.

“I’m not your enemy. And I’m not going anywhere without you, Cristiano,” I say, studying him in profile.

His gaze meets mine. “If it comes to it, you are.” He sets me on my feet and stands up again. He’s anxious, I feel it. “I want to show you something,” he says and, keeping my hand in his, we leave the study. We stop to put on jackets before walking out of the house and into the overcast, windy day.

“I need to talk to you actually,” I start, almost forgetting the reason I needed to talk to him.

“Later,” he says, keeping hold of my hand as we climb the steep rocks to the west of the island. The wind is stronger here and I duck my head against it, shivering in the cooler temperature as clouds overtake the sun completely.

“Where are we going?” I ask once we’ve crested the hill. The wind is stronger here. Almost violent. I have to keep pushing the hair off my face and I won’t let go of his hand for fear I’ll be blown away.

“There,” he says.

I see what he’s pointing to a little distance ahead of us. My mouth falls open because there, built into the rock face is a mausoleum.

“It’s carved into the stone,” he starts as we reach the foreboding front face. “The façade is marble. My grandfather added on to it. You can see the difference in the veining. He couldn’t get exactly the same.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” It’s large, taking up the entire side of the rock here. And I can see where the addition was made. It’s beautiful and eerie at once. “Is it always this windy up here?”

He points to the darker clouds in the distance. “There’s a storm coming.” We walk up the steps leading to the huge, metal door. He looks back down at me. “Are you scared?”

I look from the door up to him. “Not with you.”

He smiles.

“But I wouldn’t come up here alone in the dead of night or anything,” I add as a sudden chill makes me shudder.

“That’s wise,” he says with a smile pulling me to him momentarily, big hand warm on my back. “More for the cliff than the dead. You have nothing to fear from the ghosts of my family.” He turns to the door before finishing the sentence and pushes it open. It’s heavy. I can tell from the effort it takes. Cristiano ushers me inside as it creaks.

In here the air is different. There’s a stillness almost as if the ocean isn’t just beyond. Like the wind isn’t attempting to blow us off the top of this cliff. And it’s spotless. I guess I expected dust. Cobwebs. Creepy creatures in the darkest corners. But someone is taking care of the place. There’s even a lamp that’s burning a dim red.

“It’s one of the first things I did,” he says of the lantern. He releases my hand and walks toward the stone altar where the crucified Christ hangs overhead. I look up at him, make the sign of the cross.

He watches me, then shifts his gaze to wiping something off the altar, rearranging some of the things there.

“What are they?” I ask, stepping closer.

“My mom’s rosary beads. They should have buried them with her but didn’t. I don’t know why. These are their wedding bands.” He picks one up and turns it to read the engraving inside. Then hands it to me.

Inside is one word but it’s in a language I don’t know.

“What does it say?”

“Eternal, in my father’s.” He picks up the other one. “In my mother’s, Love.” He sets both back on the counter. “Latin.”

“Should you leave them here? I mean, they’re valuable.”

“No one comes up here but me or Dante.”

I look at the rosary. “Are those sapphires?”

He nods. “Lenore said dad had it made for mom. She kept them and only gave them to me when I woke up. And this is Elizabeth’s favorite bear. She never even had a chance to wear it out.”

I watch his hand fist around it. He turns away. From where I’m standing, I see his jaw tighten before he finally puts the stuffed animal down. It seems to take everything he has to do it, to release his fist, release his rage.

“What kind of monster kills a five-year-old girl?” he asks.

I touch his shoulder but have no words, so I lay my cheek on his back.

“Lenore stopped asking about Mara. I know she wants to every time she sees me but stops herself. Today, she mentioned that she loved her then corrected herself.”

“I need to tell you something,” I say.

“Past tense,” he continues like I haven’t spoken.

“Cristiano,” I touch his shoulder. “There’s something you need to hear.”

He turns to me. “What is it?”

“When they killed my parents, Noah and I were separated for the first two years. They kept him in Mexico and brought me with them. He…the day of the wedding I was in your sister’s room. Do you remember?”

He nods.

“Noah came there to see me.”

“I’m not really following.”

“While I was getting dressed, he must