Page 238 of Lethal Obsession

“But since Lars has been in that bed, I’ve understood it. Because he isn’t gone. Not for me.” I meet Benny’s eyes. “I’ve heard his voice every moment of every day,” I say quietly. “Calling me names. Giving me hell. Making me realize how fucking stupid it is to think that life is something we deserve, rather than something we embrace.” I shake my head. “He talked to me so much in Miami that it felt like he was inside me, alive, part of me. Until I came back here and sat at his bedside.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t wake instantly.” Benny’s weak attempt at a smile does nothing to soften the jagged edge of hurt in his voice. “If anything was going to wake Sleeping Beauty from his slumber, it would have been you. The kiss of true love and all that.”

I ignore his comment. “I couldn’t hear him at all in that ICU room. I don’t think that’s an accident, Benny. I think it’s because here, Lars has you.”

His head jerks up, his eyes narrowing.

“You said that Lars was in love with me.” I don’t flinch from the hurt in his eyes. “Maybe that was true, once. But over the years, it became something else. I know you might have trouble believing that.” I nod at the skepticism on his face. “But Lars and I are friends, Benny. In the truest sense of the word. As my father recently said, to have a true friend is the greatest blessing life can give us—equaled only by the love of a good woman.” I give him a half smile. “Or in your case,” I say quietly, “the love of a good man.”

I don’t look away from the tears in his eyes.

“I saw it in his face the first time he talked about you. I knew it when he kept flying you out places or bringing you up in random conversations. Going to a Taylor Swift concert, for Chrissakes.”

I roll my eyes, and Benny gives a choked laugh.

“I didn’t tell you about my family history and my past with Lars to make you feel like an outsider. I told you because Lars is my family—and you are the man he loves. That makes you my family, Benny.” I grip his hand briefly. “Now, always—and regardless of whether Lars wakes up or not.”

I hold his eyes long enough that he knows I mean it. Then I forcibly wrap his fingers around his cup of wine.

“Now drink your wine and stop ruining a perfect Sicilian pizza with tears. We’re going to eat it, then I’m going to go and find the woman of my dreams—and leave you to the man of yours.”

48

Ofelia

It’s late afternoon, and I’m sitting alone on the terrace, staring at the glittering sea and savoring a rare moment of peace.

Darya and Masha have gone shopping, though given that Masha loathes shopping unless it’s directly flamenco related, and after the tense wedding discussion with Darya this morning, I suspect my stepmother is diplomatically giving me some space.

Either way I’m grateful.

I’m halfway through a very large gin and tonic, doing my best to think about nothing at all, when I hear a car door slam in the forecourt.

Damn it.

I instantly feel guilty. I should be grateful for the support and love of friends and family, rather than resentful. But lately all I can think about are the peaceful weeks aboard the Quantum Drift, when it was just Alexei, me, and an endless horizon.

I’m not blind to the irony of longing for the peace of the yacht after watching Lars’s blow sky-high. But long for it I do—not least because the sea is generally an extremely effective deterrent to well-meaning guests.

A hint of dusky leather mingles with the rich, floral coastal air, and my heart stops.

“Day drinking in secret now, angel?”

I can’t quite manage to move.

“Although I have to say I’m already ahead of you.” One scarred hand slides over my belly, and Alexei’s lips press into the curve of my neck.

My heart lurches back into rapid, uneven life.

“I stopped at the hospital to see Lars and took Benny for a drink before I came here.”

I close my eyes as his mouth lingers on my skin, one of my arms stealing up to twine about his neck, not least to reassure myself that he’s really here.

“I made myself go there first.” His hand roams up my belly to cover my breast, and I gasp. “I knew there was no chance I’d be able to go anywhere once I saw you.”

I rise from the chair, barely trusting my legs to hold me, and turn slowly around. The late-afternoon sun falls full on his face, making his scars gleam and his lone eye blaze like blue fire.

“Papa told Darya everything went well in Miami.” I touch his face, surprised I can speak at all. “But I’m not sure I truly believed it until right now.”