Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

28

Nolan

Besides the nightI caught Gemma with the pills, I've never seen her so distressed. The fact that my words caused her to question what she means to me for several days, pains me. Part of me curses myself for not coming straight to Nora's when I got back in town. I knew something was wrong when I left, yet I convinced myself she was only worried. The other half of me is glad I didn't. Maybe it's going to be the only way to show her I don't associate her with her dead father or anyone else who is part of the Bailey clan.

I wrap my arm around Gemma and keep her close to my chest, escorting her through Maksim's penthouse. I ignore everyone and all their questioning looks. Gemma's still a wreck. Her tears have stopped, but her eyes are puffy. She's on the verge of losing it again. As soon as we get in the car, I pull her onto my lap.

She buries her face in my neck. Her hot tears drip down my skin. I hold her head and murmur in her ear, "Did you sleep well when I was gone?"

She shakes her head but doesn't lift it off me.

"You had nightmares?" I ask.

She sniffles. "Yes."

I stroke her back and kiss the top of her head. "Maybe now that your father is dead, you can sleep again."

Her body stiffens. It's as if she's only now registering what that means. She moves her face in front of mine. "He's really dead?"

"Yes. I saw him take his last breath."

She shivers. "Did you kill him?"

I wish I could tell her it was me, but I can't take the credit for it. "No. Liam did."

She swallows hard then looks out the window. In a painful voice, she whispers, "But Orla is still alive?"

I turn her chin. I shouldn't tell her any details, but something in me thinks she needs to know. "Listen to me very carefully. A war in the streets occurred. Do you know what that means?"

She shakes her head and bites on her trembling lip.

I brush a strand of hair off her forehead. "We gunned them down. Every one of your father's men that he planted to kill us are now dead. I don't know how many men he lost, but there's a big dent in his clan. And Orla may have been in one of the vehicles."

Gemma squeezes her eyes shut. "Or she could be in New York."

I wince inside, knowing she heard my entire conversation and what she thinks because of it. I state, "If she is, we'll find her. Now that she doesn't have your father or his men to protect her, she won't be able to stay in hiding. And I promise you, when we locate her, I will kill her. But my gut says she's dead."

Gemma slowly opens her eyes.

I cup her cheek. "Take the win, princess. Your father is dead. He'll never again threaten you or attempt to give you to some thug." My stomach flips saying that last part out loud.

Her face crumples, and new tears fall.

I pull her into me. "Shh. Everything is going to be okay now."

She chokes out, "But I still have Bailey blood in me."

If I could take back my words from several days ago, I would. It never occurred to me she was listening or that she would take what I said and think it applied to her. I firmly declare, "I already told you, I don't see you as one of them."

The car pulls into my driveway and parks.

She says so quietly I almost don't hear it, "I need you to love me. I need us to be real."

"We are." I get out and carry her into the house. Her body trembles, and I take her right to the bedroom. I set her on the bed then remove all her clothes. She stares at me, conflicted about whether I love her or not. It's all over her face, and I curse myself some more. I hold up the corner of the blankets. "Get under the covers."

She hesitates, shivering, but then obeys.

I remove my clothes and slide in next to her, tugging her into my body. I pretzel my limbs around her cold ones then press my lips against her forehead. "You asked me who you are to me. I'm going to tell you. Once I do, there will be no more questions about how I feel about you."

Her voice shakes. "I can't handle it if you lie to me, Nolan. If I'm part of some twisted game of yours—"

I flip her onto her back and cage my body over hers. She gasps, and I hover over her face so she can't escape me. "I've never lied to you."

New tears fall. "But I lied to you. Just like you said all Baileys do."

My pulse increases. "You've lied to me about something I'm not aware of?"

She shakes her head. "No. Nothing new."

My blood calms. "Then it's in the past. We've already discussed it."

"But you don't trust me," she quietly says.

I wipe a tear off her cheek. "If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have just told you we had a war in the streets and who your father's killer was. Do you not see this?"

She stays quiet, biting on her lip.

I sweep my arm under her and palm her head. "Ask me where I was today when you were at Nora's."

She pins her eyebrows together.

"Ask me," I demand.

In a scared voice, she questions, "Where were you?"

I reach into my drawer and pull out a box. I flip the top up and put it next to our faces. "I was buying this. For you."

She freezes, and her eyes widen.

The feeling in my chest I always get around her intensifies. "You wanted to know who you are to me. I'll tell you. You're my everything—the woman I want to marry and knock out a dozen Irish babies with. The only woman on earth who can push all my buttons and stand up to me, and I still can't handle having you out of my eyesight. You may have Bailey blood in you, but you're the exception to the rule, a miracle among a cesspool of vile human beings. And one other thing, you're not their princess. You're my princess. So get it through your head. You belong to me, an O'Malley. Not them."

Her eyes dart between the ring and me. She swallows hard. "Are-are you asking me to marry you?"

"Yes."

"And you want to have babies?"

"No. I want to have your babies."

She scrunches her forehead. "But you asked Colin if Madison trapped him."

"What does Colin's situation have to do with us?"

"You made it sound like you wouldn't want kids."

I groan. "Gemma, the next time you eavesdrop on me, make sure you don't take things out of context."

She winces. "Sorry. So you do want kids?"

"Yeah. Yours."

Her eyes brighten, and her lips curve up. "Okay. Ask me."

I kiss her quickly. "I love you—more than I ever thought possible. I also know you love me, too. If what we have between us isn't real, then nothing in life is. So will you marry me, princess?"

She reaches around my shoulders and slides her fingers through my hair. "Yes. And I do love you."

I shut the ring box and toss it on the table. I brush my lips against hers. "Good. I'll put your ring on you later."

She laughs and kisses me, widens her legs, and pushes my ass.

I sink into her in one thrust. She whimpers in my mouth, clutching me, giving me all of her the way she always does, the way no other woman ever has.

"God, I missed you," I mumble.

"So much," she replies then rolls her tongue back in my mouth.

I retreat and stare at her. "Don't ever question my love for you again. I don't give it out to just anyone."

"I'm sorry."

"Shh. No sorries. But no more doubt." I kiss her lips then jaw, moving toward her ear. She grasps me tighter and digs her nails into my shoulder, quivering underneath me.

I lick her lobe. "Don't come until I do."

"Oh God," she breathes.

I slow my thrusts down, wanting to savor her and this moment, and all that we are together, with her at my body's mercy. She's my gorgeous princess, soon-to-be bride, the future Mrs. Nolan O'Malley. Somehow, in the middle of the chaos, she became the person I trust the most. I'll protect, love, and kill for her. If I had to step in front of a bullet to save her, I would. And I'm going to make sure, every day going forward, she doesn't just know it, but she believes it.

"Nolan," she whispers, as her lashes flutter over her blue flames. Her skin glistens against her pink-flushed cheeks. Strands of her strawberry-blonde hair stick to her forehead.

Our hot breaths merge. The scents of sex, sweat, and her aroma of earth and lavender mix, flaring in the air. I inhale all of it, breathing it in with short breaths. My eyes dart across her face, studying her perfection. I flick my tongue in and out of her mouth, fucking her in unison with my erection. Unable to hold myself back any longer, I speed up my thrusts.

Her body convulses, eyes roll, and she cries out my name. She claws my back and arches her body into my chest. Her body spasms, gripping and releasing my cock with pleasant torture.

Everything within me turns to mayhem. Racing blood and adrenaline pound into every atom of my being. The high she gives me magnifies. My seed pumps deep within her, and I growl in her ear, "My wife."

She trembles beneath me, breathing as hard as I am, clutching me. I don't move, breathing in the scent of her skin, wishing I could find a way to have it permeate all my cells and smell it all day long.

I keep my face buried in the curve of her neck and reach for the box. I lift my head and roll off her, pulling her on top of me.

She smiles. "Hi."

I chuckle. "Hi."

She slides her hands in my hair and kisses me. I'm not sure who's giving who life, but everything about us together makes the darkness go away.

I reach for her hand and sit up so she's straddling me. "If you don't like the ring, tell me, and I'll get you another one."

"I love it," she says.

"You barely saw it."

She bites on her smile.

My nerves flutter in my chest. I hope I chose what she likes. If she doesn't, I want her to tell me so she doesn't end up with something she hates. I slide the ring on her finger. Diamonds outline a Celtic crown. A two-carat heart-shaped diamond sits in the middle. Platinum Celtic knots are on both sides, with another diamond in the center. I had it engraved. It reads: My heart, my soul, my princess.

She studies it. My anxiety increases, waiting for her to tell me her thoughts.

She glances up, and tears shine in her eyes. She cups my cheek. "This is the most beautiful ring I've ever seen."

"You like it?" I question, still worried.

She shakes her head. "No. I love it. It's perfect." She kisses me.

I slide back down in bed with her. When she's snuggled against my chest, I trace her hand, staring at the ring. I suggest, "Now that your father is dead, and Orla probably is, too, I think we start focusing on us."

She tilts her head and pins her gaze on mine. "Do you really think she's dead?"

"I hope so. If she isn't, we'll find her. I promise you," I vow.

Her eyes light with hope. She asks, "What made you buy this ring today?"

I stroke her back. "I didn't like being away from you. I never do. But something about Colin not being excited about having a baby bugged me. Not because of his situation but ours. I realized I want that. With you. I've never wanted it with anyone before. If you told me you were pregnant, I'd be elated, not upset. I'd be happy you were stuck with me. And then I saw your father."

She rolls farther on top of me. "When you were out of town?"

The vision of Rory Bailey demanding we turn over his daughters to him makes my blood boil. "Yes. There wasn't any question when he left, the end was near. I wanted to make sure that when it did happen, you were clear that you're mine. And we aren't just passing the time for something to do, since you couldn't live on your own."

Her lips twitch. "You already told me you didn't want me to move out."

I confirm, "Yeah. I did. But it's not enough. I want you as mine, Gemma. Now. Forever. And I want the world to know you belong to me and I to you."

She tilts her head. "So we should start planning a wedding, then?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want, we'll do, but it has to be a Catholic ceremony," I tell her.

"I grew up Catholic. That's fine."

I wiggle my eyebrows. "Good. And don't forget something white for under your wedding dress."