Her eyes widened, and the tiniest hint of a smile slipped across her lips. That small bit of joy seared through my chest like a blade to the heart. Her delight ripped through any armor I had and destroyed it with a single small smile. I didn’t know what it was about this woman that moved me so. Maybe it was the belief that my late wife had chosen her for me. Maybe it was the chemistry when we’d kissed. Divine intervention, perhaps? Whatever it was, I wanted more.
Silently, I vowed that I’d personally see Faith happy if it was the last thing I did on this Earth.
I let go of her hands and moved around the bar. “Come. Follow me. My driver will take us.”
She didn’t hesitate to jump into action, slipping her hand into mine without being prompted.
I took that as a slight win.
The neighborhood was an older development of standard, desert-weathered, single-story ranch homes. Most of the yards were either xeriscaped with rocks and cacti or filled with desert plants that could withstand the dry heat. Unlike my own homeland which was filled with the ocean breeze, its mist soaking into the surroundings giving everything it touched the breath of life, of peace. I couldn’t wait to get back. I’d been gone far too long for my liking.
I stood back a couple of feet as Faith knocked on the door.
“I already told you guys, she’s not here! Hasn’t been here in ages!” A man’s voice came roaring through the still-closed door.
“Dad!” Faith called out. “It’s me! Open the door.”
A series of locking mechanisms being undone clanged and clinked against the wood before the door burst open.
A man with thick, dark hair, assessing brown eyes, and a rounded stomach stood gobsmacked, mouth agape, at the threshold of his home.
“Faith.” His tone was pure disbelief. He reached out and pulled his daughter into his arms, hugging her as though he hadn’t seen her in years.
I watched in silence as he kissed the crown of her head, each of her cheeks, and then pressed his forehead to hers. “You are here. In the flesh. This is not a dream.” His voice cracked, and tears filled his dark gaze.
“I’m here, Dad. For now,” she said, clinging to her father.
This reunion should have felt wonderful, beautiful even. And yet I knew their response was a desperate one—after not having seen one another in too long. I couldn’t imagine being away from my family back home. Especially my daughter, Penny. Once my travels hit two weeks in length, I yearned to be near her. It wasn’t natural for a parent to be away from their offspring for too long. Which was also why I needed to get back. The love of my family called to me, even from a continent away.
Once again, I had to hold back the growing rage that had been simmering underneath the surface since I’d read the threatening text Faith received back at the auction. That anger grew with each new experience I had with my intended.
Was this how she lived her life day to day? In fear? Checking over her shoulder? Worried Aiden would jump out of the darkness and imprison her in another gilded cage?
A primal growl rumbled low in my throat, as each horrifying possibility my bride faced daily teetered back and forth in my mind.
Faith must have heard me because she shifted from her father’s arms and turned around. “Dad, I have someone I want you to meet. My…”
“Fiancé, Joel Castellanos. I’m delighted to meet you, sir. Even under the circumstances…such as they are.” I offered my hand.
Her father shook my hand but kept his daughter tucked at his side. “Robert Marino.”
“Mimi!” A child’s squeal came from deeper in the house.
Faith let go of her father, dashed ten feet into the home, and fell to her knees, the stunning dress she wore of absolutely no concern to her.
I watched captivated as a girl no more than three or four clung to Faith’s neck, her eyes squeezed tight as she held on.
“Eden, buttercup,” Faith gasped, her arm around the small child’s body, her hand cupping the girl’s light-brown hair. She placed kisses on the girl’s face and down her neck until she giggled hopelessly. “I missed you! ”
“I missed you, Mimi.” The little girl smiled hugely.
“Mimi?” I murmured out loud.
“Auntie was hard for her to say in the beginning. The word evolved into Mimi and stuck,” Robert explained.
I nodded and slipped my hands into my pockets, not having a clue what to do in this awkward situation.
Faith played with the girl’s hair, pushing the long lengths out of her face.