Page 9 of Scandal Queen

His face fell.

“So why are you here?” My words were stilted and I had to force each one out. I wanted to be in his arms. He was here. He’d come. Driven all the way by himself—for me, for us.

“Because I’m going to ask you to come into my life.”

My mouth fell open. “Have you seen what they are writing about me?”

“Yes.” His gaze didn’t falter. “But I know who you are. I know who I am, and I know what we can be. We can be everything they want. Everything we need.”

“Oliver.”

“No, wait.” He straightened up as though he knew to expect a fight. “You texted me from the hospital.”

“Days ago. I thought you’d come straight back. Daisy wanted you.”

“Did you want me?”

“You know I do.” The words forced their way out.

“Can you forgive me though, Leia? It’s killed me these last couple of days, being stuck in London, having so many meetings and crisis talks. Too many discussions. All I wanted to do was to come and find you.”

“Crisis talks?” I whispered. The three-day silence transformed into something else and my gut twisted in response. Had he been fighting for us while I ran away?

He shook his head, his gaze blazing. “Can I stay here with you?”

My legs shook so hard, I reached out for the wall behind me just in case I went down. I nodded.

“Leia. Your forgiveness?”

Jesus, did he want it right here by the front door?

“Oliver.”

His face fell. “I’ve left it too late. I should have found you straightaway. Should have fought harder.”

“Oliver.”

He snapped his attention back onto my face.

“I love you.”

His body relaxed instantly, sagging almost. His green gaze locked onto my face. “You do?”

I nodded, my words lodged in my throat.

“Even though I’m an utter dick?”

I laughed. The bloody bastard made me laugh. It was only a make or break moment in my entire universe…

“Even then.”

“Now I’m definitely going to stay.”

He shifted closer. His scent swirled around me, making my head spin like I’d had too much wine. Then he stopped and stared at me, his fingers sliding against my jaw, his thumb bushing my cheeks. I didn’t wait for him to kiss me. I kissed him. Reaching for him, tying myself to him. I might have been angry, but now I knew how missing him felt. I never wanted that again.

Seventy-two hours had hurt.

“Where’s Daisy?” he asked, and my heart thudded that his first thought was of her.