How could he have missed it?
He kept his hands fisted, not so much in anger, but in an effort to hold in every bit of himself. He was on the verge of unraveling, goddammit, and he wouldn't let her have that, too. He had to keep his shit together or else she won. She fucking won.
"It was dark," Jane said. Her voice was deceptively calm. "She wore a mask. It was years between the kidnapping and her showing up as Colin's wife. And god knows Adele has had plastic surgery. You couldn't have known, Dallas. No one would have even suspected."
"I should have. I've been looking for the bitch for seventeen years. I should have suspected."
"No." Her voice was fierce, and when she came over and grabbed his arms, her grip was so tight he thought she might actually bruise him. "Don't you dare pull back on me because of this. Don't you dare let her win."
She sucked in air. "You're going to work through this. We both will. She played games with you, Dallas. With both of us. Psychotic, fucked up games."
Tears streamed down her face, but he didn't think she even knew she was crying. "We're stronger together than apart. We always have been. We know it, and god knows she knew it, too. It's why she tried to destroy us. But it didn't work. It won't ever work."
Her words sang to him, and he wanted to tell her that she was right. That she--that they--were what mattered. But the words seemed to get lost in his throat, and he couldn't speak. Hell, his chest was so full of pain and love and grief he could barely breathe.
But she had to know, and so he pulled her close and kissed her, pouring all of his love, all of his fear, all of his need into that touch, that connection. She was right--they were better together--and as she melted against him, opening herself to him, he drew her in. Her strength, her ferocity, her love.
"You're everything to me," he said when they broke apart. They were both breathing hard, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. He needed to lay her down and claim her. He craved the sensation of her body pressed against his, giving herself completely to him. Completing him.
"Yes," she s
aid. It was all she said, but it was enough. He pushed her back until her ass was against the railing, and she was holding on to the newel post with her right hand. He threaded the fingers of his left hand in her hair, holding her head in place as he attacked her mouth while he used his left to untie her robe, letting both halves fall open, exposing her breasts, her belly, her sweet pussy.
He slid his hands down, and his cock hardened even more when he found her slick, wet heat. She spread her legs, her free hand on the back of his neck as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss even as his fingers thrust hard inside her.
Roughly, he pulled her head back then looked into her eyes, so dark with passion. Her lips were swollen from his assault, and she was breathing hard. "Now," she begged. "Fast. Hard. Please."
He didn't hesitate. He was wearing nothing but the loose athletic shorts he'd pulled on before coming outside, and now he pushed them down, stepping out of them and kicking them off to the side. She still wore the robe, and it fluttered in the breeze as he moved closer, then curled one hand around her waist, under the robe so that he felt the heat of her skin against his palm.
She was breathing hard, looking deep into his eyes. "Only you," he said.
"I know. God, Dallas, I've always known."
"Put your legs around me," he ordered, moving closer. He teased the tip of his cock against her pussy as she did, and he was so damned aroused he almost came right then. He held it back, though. He wanted--needed--to be inside her.
Slowly he entered her, watching the passion on her face as she tilted her head back. As her nipples peaked and her breathing became more and more shallow. She bit her lower lip and he knew that she was holding back a cry.
He pushed in more, and then more still when her legs tightened around his ass, urging him closer and closer until he was balls-deep inside of her, enveloped in the heaven of her wet heat.
"Make it hard, Dallas. Make me come."
He didn't move a muscle, and she whimpered and squirmed in frustrated protest.
"Do you trust me?"
"You know I do."
He slid his other arm around her waist, so that he was holding her steady with both hands. "Then let go of the post. Drop your legs from around me. Then lean back. Let your arms fall, too."
"Dallas, no--"
"Yes." The command in his voice was inescapable. "I want you to watch the stars, and I want to watch you. And I want to be the only thing keeping you from falling."
"You already are," she said, the deep sincerity in her voice filling his heart even as the heat on her face made his cock throb inside her. Slowly, she let go of the post and then leaned back so that only her ass was on the railing. The rest of her was laid out flat, kept from falling only by his hands on her back, and connected only by the length of his cock inside her.
She was his, all right. As surely as he belonged to her.
The thought filled him. Excited him. And he held tight to her waist as his hips moved, pounding a steady rhythm inside her, one that built in power and intensity as she cried out his name. As she gave herself entirely to him, trusting him to keep her safe as she floated under the wide expanse of stars.