And if I had one of those motherfucking dreams.

As much as I hated for her to be burdened by my emotional train wreck of f**ked-up personal baggage, the vulnerable part of me realized that only her presence beside me would ever do anything for soothing away those cocksuckers. Brynne was my only comfort, and yet, as I agonized over scaring her with all that horrible shit, I tried my damnedest to prevent the night terrors from happening. Sometimes I got away with it. Sometimes I didn’t. So far I’d managed to avoid another bad one like the night before she was taken by Karl Westman.

Him. I felt my blood boil at the merest suggestion of him. That wankstain wouldn’t ever be back to hurt her, or anybody else for that matter, but even the thought of how he’d tried to take her away with him made me physically ill—

“Ethan? What’s wrong?”

I shoved my thoughts away and shook my head, holding her a little tighter. “Sorry. I was—I—nothing’s wrong, baby.” I nuzzled behind her ear.

“I was telling you how much I love that we get to stay here tonight and you didn’t answer—”

I cut her off before she could delve any further. My girl was very intuitive with me. She would sense where my head was at and worry. Brynne knew more about my dark place than anyone else, but at the same time, I couldn’t bring her into it any further than I already had. I just couldn’t do that to her—not my sweet, innocent girl, now my lovely wife, and the mother of my child. And certainly not right now, not with our honeymoon before us. I was going to enjoy our time together. Or die trying. Most f**king definitely.

So I smoothly distracted her instead.

“I’m very glad about that, Mrs. Blackstone, because after we were here together, I couldn’t get this place out of my head. I wanted to bring you here. The inside needs some attention, but the bones are good and the foundation rock solid, perched up here with the sea below. This house has been here a very long time, and hopefully it’ll still be here a long time from now.”

I slipped the small envelope from my pocket and brought it around to hold in front of her so she could see it.

“What’s this?” The gentle sound of her voice when she asked the question made my heart thud inside my chest.

“It’s your wedding present. I want you to open it.”

She lifted the flap and tipped the odd assortment into her hand—some modern, some very old. “Keys?” She whipped back around to me again, her face transformed into one of awe, her lips parted. “You bought the house?!”

I couldn’t hold back a grin at her reaction. “Not exactly.” I turned her to face the house once more and drew my arms around hers, resting my chin on the top of her head. “I bought us a home. For you and me, and for peaches, and any other raspberries or blueberries that might come along later. This place has plenty of rooms to put them in.”

“How many blueberries are we talking here, because I’m looking at a really big house that must have a lot of rooms to fill.”

“That, Mrs. Blackstone, remains to be seen, but I can assure you that I will give you my very best efforts at filling a few.” Oh, yeah I would.

“Ahh, then what are you standing out here for? Hadn’t you better get cracking?” She sounded very smug now and I sure liked the sound of that.

I swooped her up, and started walking. Fast. If she was ready for HoneymoonLand then I was not the bloke dense enough to be delaying matters. Again, not a moron.

My legs swallowed up the rest of the path quickly, and then the stone steps of our new country house. “And the bride goes over the threshold,” I said, pushing the heavy oaken door with my shoulder.

“You’re getting more and more traditional all the time, Mr. Blackstone.” She laughed softly up at me.

“I know. I kind of like it.”

“Oh wait, my package. I want you to open your gift too, Ethan. Set me down. The lighted foyer will be perfect for you to see it with.”

She handed me the black box tied with silver ribbon she’d been clutching so carefully, looking very happy, and very lovely in her wedding lace, wearing the heart pendant at her throat. I had a small flash of what she’d endured with Westman when he took her, because I remembered she was wearing it when I got her back and checked over every inch of her body for any sign of injury or abuse. It was the only thing she wore by the time I took us into the shower. Just a jeweled heart on a chain adorning my beautiful American girl… I mentally kicked myself and shook it off, angry that I had allowed bad thoughts in again. I pushed the memory down as far away as possible into the recesses of my psyche. There was no place here for anything ugly tonight. This was our night. Only good and wonderful was going to be allowed in with us in this special moment right here.

I lifted the lid off the thin box and pulled back some black tissue paper. The photographs revealed underneath stopped my breath. Brynne beautifully naked in many artistic poses, wearing nothing but her wedding veil.

“For you, Ethan. For your eyes only,” she whispered. “I love you with all of my heart, and all of my mind, and with all of my body. It all belongs to you now.”

“The pictures are beautiful,” I whispered as I studied them in detail. I think I finally understood her as I looked at the images. I was really trying my very hardest to understand her motivation at least. “They’re beautiful, baby, and I—I think I can see why you want to have them now.” Brynne needed to make beautiful pictures with her body. It was her reality. I needed to possess her, and take care of her in order to fulfill some dominant requirement within my consciousness—my reality. I knew I couldn’t help it, either. I only knew that there was no other way for me to be with her. I was who I was and couldn’t change myself to fit into any other slot in regards to Brynne.

“I wanted you to have these pictures. They’re for you only, Ethan. Only you will ever see these pictures of me. They are my gift to you.”

“I hardly have words.” I looked through the poses more slowly, soaking up the images and savouring each one. “I like this one where you’re looking over your shoulder, and your veil is down your back.” I studied the photograph some more. “Your eyes are open…and they are looking at me.”

“They are, but my eyes have only really been opened since we met. You gave me everything. You made me really want to open my eyes to what was around me, for the first time in my adult life. You made me want you. You made me want…a life. You were my greatest gift of all, Ethan James Blackstone.” She reached up to touch my face and held her palm there, her clear brown eyes showing me so much of what she felt. She loves me.