Page 110 of Beloved
But mostly, I loathed myself.
“Rafaela,” I whispered and slowly dropped to my knees.
“I’m ugly. I’m so ugly.”
Jesus Christ. Is that what she really believed? I lifted my head, trying to keep my voice even so as not to scare her. “You need to listen to me. I mean it. You are without a doubt the most beautiful, sensational, sexy, and appealing woman in the entire world and there is no one else I’d rather be with. No one. Do you understand? Do you?”
The single nod of her head was all I needed.
She turned around to face me, peering down at me with eyes searching mine. Such intensely pain-filled eyes forced to see so much horror. “Oh, Kazimir. I knew you were alive.” As I pressed my face against her stomach, she wrapped her arms around my head, holding me tightly against her.
And in those moments, not only did I crave her body, but I needed her heart. Not just to keep in a perfect locked box, but to heal mine, to remind me that there were amazing things in this life.
I’d promised her I’d return. I’d told her I’d protect her. I’d claimed her as mine and I’d failed her in more ways than one.
Never again.
She was mine, but not as a possession. As the only woman who could lift the ugly veil of darkness.
“Kazimir,” she whispered again. “I love you.”
Hearing her words, an admittance that I sensed was as painful as the punishment she’d received because of her strong feelings shattered something deep within.
I should remember my father’s words, a warning that had kept me alive. I should drive my emotions over her away.
But I couldn’t.
No, I refused. But what I would do was make good on the promises made.
She was mine.
I would protect her.
I would also destroy every single person who’d caused her a moment of anguish.
Only then could I ask for her forgiveness.
CHAPTER 25
Rafaela
Love.
I’d done the unthinkable. I’d admitted my love for Kazimir, no longer keeping the dangerous secret to myself. That’s the only way I’d been able to survive for the three long years. Or maybe my anger that he’d disappeared, however ridiculous the sentiment was, had kept me from embracing what had been there from almost the minute I’d met him.
A part of me had expected his distrust, but not to the degree he’d shown me. I also hadn’t desired to show him I was damaged goods quite so soon.
If ever.
There’d been no choice.
And I’d been ashamed, horrified that he’d push me away.
As he rose to his feet, to both see and feel his anger ebbing from every pore in his body should frighten me, yet he wasn’t furious with me.
He was enraged at my father. I could see the wheels spinning. I could tell what was on his mind and for so many reasons, I wanted him to lash out. If that made me a horrible person, then so be it.
Very slowly, he shook his head, even more deliberately placing his warm palm against my cheek. “No one will ever…everhurt you again.”
