Believe in Me

CHAPTER 5

Tori dreamed about her last day as a human every night that week, her subconscious's constant reminder to keep her guard up around Jericho, to not get too close, to never repeat her past mistakes. Because she might help other people fall in love, but her final hours as a human proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was a failure in the love department-always had been, always would be.

She just wished the details had grown fuzzier with time, but they hadn't. The nightmare always started in the same place. She and Jericho arguing. Again. She'd wanted to see Enrique, to assure her brother that she was all right. She'd hated that she knew he'd be worried, and she'd been certain if she explained to him how she felt about Jericho, that he'd understand, that he'd give them his blessing. Jericho didn't want to release her as his prisoner, but her insistence had finally paid off and he'd returned her to her brother-or maybe he'd just gotten sick of listening to her, and his sexual toy had been less fun to play with. Her reputation had already been tattered beyond repair, so the damage to her brother's honor had been done.

The reasons didn't matter, in the end. All that mattered was that things hadn't gone the way she'd planned. She'd been such a naive little idiot. Enrique hadn't understood-he'd refused to let her go back to a man who'd stolen her virtue. Nothing she said would make him believe she loved Jericho, that she didn't want to live without him.

Her mind was locked in the dream, wanting to change how it ended, kicking and screaming and railing at herself, but it always ended the same. She could only watch and wait and live through her own demise over and over again. It was like Groundhog Day on crack.

She'd managed to escape Enrique's guards during the chaos of preparations for a surprise raid, and ridden her horse into the little backwater Texas town Jericho and his men occupied. Getting lost in the dark twice, terrified she wouldn't be able to warn Jericho in time, her memory tormented her with every moment of the horrifying panic of that ride. One of Jericho's men had reluctantly told her where to find him-the local saloon. The brothel. She hadn't wanted to believe, but she couldn't deny the truth that faced her-her brother had been right, Jericho had only used her to taunt an enemy, and she was a fool. She'd blurted out the information about Enrique's plans, that Jericho and his men were in danger, and then she'd staggered out, too broken, too numb to know or care where she should go next. She'd just gotten back on her horse and left. Jericho hadn't tried to stop her, hadn't come after her, hadn't cared that she'd been caught in the raid. He hadn't cared that she'd died trying to save his life. And he certainly hadn't had the decency to live and make her sacrifice worth something.

Every morning she jerked awake, back in her own bed, but sweat-soaked and shaking. Jericho was always there, reaching out to soothe her, and that soothing led to sex. Which meant her nerves were shot. Her senses were overloaded with both the remembered pain of Jericho and the overwhelming pleasure of being in his arms again.

It was enough to make her crazy. It sure as hell kept her a regular and loyal customer of Bean There, Done That. Caffeine was the only thing getting her through the days. She swallowed and offered Mason a smile when he noticed she'd stepped into line behind him. «Your Celia will be back from her convention tomorrow.»

She'd often accidentally run into him at the coffee shop, so if it was a little more often than usual this week, no one wondered why. If she could get in just a little encouragement here and there, it wouldn't hurt. Keep him thinking about his soul mate, remind him he wanted her.

Mason grinned his pirate's grin, showing even white teeth. «She's not my Celia. Yet.»

«Well, she's a fool to turn you down, young man.» Tori threw in an extra little old lady creak to her voice and patted his brawny arm.

He laughed, his eyes dancing with real amusement. She got the impression he was bemused and a little touched that the kindly old town gossip took such an interest in his campaign to win Celia over. «Why, thank you, ma'am. I think so too.»

Sweeping his arm in front of him in a roughly gallant gesture, he let her step up to the counter and order her coffee first. He really was a nice guy, if they could just get him and Celia on the right track. Tori sighed, her smile crumbling when she turned her back on him.

Even with the ugly nightmares, the days had whipped by, time racing when she wanted it to slow down. Dread settled like a cold, twisted knot in her belly. For better or for worse, this thing with Jericho would be over soon.

Somehow, her subconscious's less-than-subtle nightly memos weren't enough. She was more in love with him than she ever had been before, and it made her want to vomit. Maybe she should have been surprised at the depth of her reaction, but she wasn't. Soul mating was her business, and she knew from personal experience what happened when things went wrong. Maybe that was why failed soul mates became this kind of Guardian. Who better to understand the importance of their missions? Who better to appreciate the difficulty, the agony, of falling in love?

Jericho had kept to their deal. He hadn't brought up their painful past, and Tori did her best to block out the nightmares and pretend it had never happened, to live in the now, to absorb the utter joy of being with a man crafted specifically for her.

It almost worked. When she was in his arms, she could almost forget. Almost.

As much as she loved every moment she spent with him, talking to him, being near him, a part of her would never belong to him, a piece of her heart and mind would never let her go all the way. And she was grateful. It would make it easier when they parted. She knew that, and still she ached. Ached for what was to come, and for what could never be.

She swayed on her feet, and Mason caught her elbow. «Whoa, Mrs. Chambers. You okay?»

His gaze had sharpened with both concern and professionalism. As a firefighter, he had medical training. Shit. She tried not to wince, straightened her shoulders, and offered the most genuine smile she could muster. «I'm just fine. Don't you worry.»

Nodding easily, he didn't relinquish his grip on her arm. «Why don't I walk you back to the inn anyway? Just for my piece of mind.»

It wasn't a request, and she knew it. Her grin was more genuine this time as amusement stole through her. A guardian angel couldn't get sick, couldn't get hurt, couldn't die. His anxiety was touching, and only made her more determined to get things right for him and his soul mate. She and Jericho may have screwed the pooch for themselves, but as Jericho had said, they wouldn't fail these people.

The trip to the bed and breakfast only took a few minutes, and she left Mason on the sidewalk to try to bury herself in the business of the inn. Cover story or not, she had to keep it running smoothly. It gave her something to think about besides Jericho and their assignment, so she was grateful for the distraction. She checked the rooms, chatted with guests, served tea and cakes, then immersed herself in paperwork. A typical workday, and the routine of it after a year was soothing. Her night manager rousted her from the small office behind the check-in counter at just after seven that evening, shooing her toward the back door and her little cottage.

Jericho would be there soon. He'd made sure they spent every night together this week. Sometimes in her bed, sometimes in his. So, she waited, anticipation creating a lovely buzz in her system-or maybe it was just her brain buzzing from too much coffee and too little rest. She puttered around, put in a pan of lasagna for dinner, took a basket of clean laundry into her bedroom to fold and put away. The house was quiet, peaceful. It reminded her of the solitary life she led, and how lonely it could be. Banishing the unwanted thought, she forced her attention to the task at hand. She was hanging a dress in her small walk-in closet when Jericho arrived. She didn't hear him come in, she just became aware of him standing in her bedroom, watching her with that intent gaze of his.

«I took dinner out of the oven to cool. It smells great.» He braced his shoulder against the doorjamb to her closet.

«Thanks.»

Without trying, he dominated the space, his shoulders blocking the light streaming in from her bedroom. She reached overhead to jerk the chain attached to the overhead light. The naked bulb flooded the space with brightness, and she blinked to clear the sudden spots from her vision. Finished putting away the last of her laundry, she turned to exit. Jericho was still there, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he stroked a finger down a jumble of silk scarves she had dangling from one hanger. When he met her gaze, his expression was considering, but the tiny smile that twitched the corners of his lips was pure sin.

«These are pretty.»

She swallowed, trying to generate some moisture in her suddenly parched throat. «I like them.»

«I'm glad.» His voice dropped to a low rumble that reached down deep inside her. «Take off your clothes.»

«Jericho…»

«Things have been so good this week, haven't they? Better than ever, for me, anyway. But I want more from you. I've been dying to have you at my mercy, Tori. Let me. You know you like it, you want it. I want it.» Some emotion she couldn't recognize flittered through his gaze, quickly masked behind a persuasive little grin. He plucked up a handful of the scarves, sliding them between his long fingers. She stared, mesmerized. «Let me please you, Vitoria.»

She hadn't let him tie her up in the last week, deliberately. He'd hinted, but she'd always managed to distract him. It was too intimate, too trusting. But the effect of days on end with him, the sweetness of it, had drugged her. A slow, insidious contentment had wound through her. She closed her eyes, swallowed, her heart twisting in her chest.

«Please…» But she didn't know what she was asking for-for him to stop tempting her, for him to give her exactly what he'd offered.

The light in front of her shifted, and when she looked at him again, she saw he'd stepped back to allow her to pass him. She swayed until her breasts brushed his chest, and when she met his gaze, he groaned at whatever he saw there. Tossing the scarves across the foot of the bed, he reached for her, had them both naked before her brain could even fully acknowledge what she was about to let him do. Despite all her very good reasons, her resistance crumbled. It always did with him. This thing she had going with him now would be over soon, and she would never have this chance again. So, she'd take it. Her eyes were open, she knew what she was doing. She just hoped her heart survived.

He stretched her arms over her head, looping silky fabric around each of her wrists and then attaching them to the swirls of wrought iron that made up her headboard. She tested the bindings, tugging at them while he repeated the process with her ankles. The muscles in her thighs tensed in an automatic motion to protect herself from so much vulnerability, but she couldn't close her legs, couldn't move. A shudder ran through her when he flipped on the bright bedside lamp, framing her in a circle of light that made her feel even more exposed.

Excitement whipped through her, even though she reminded herself this was temporary insanity. He moved between her thighs, forcing her legs even wider. His cock was a hard arc that danced just under his navel, pre-come already rolling in slow beads down the long shaft. The sight made her belly clench and molten heat pumped through her veins. She waited for him to touch, to take, but instead he just stared down at her. When he spoke, his voice shook. «You are so damn beautiful.»

She swallowed, made a smile quirk her lips. «You're not so bad yourself, cowboy.»

It was nothing less than the truth. Jericho had a gorgeous body-the kind that made women pant, all broad shoulders and narrow hips, rippling abs and tight pecs. Plus, he was hung. She tried not to drool, but this was a fantasy come true. Bound, naked, and offered up like a buffet for his pleasure. With any other man, that might be a problem for her, but this was Jericho. She knew he'd make it good for her. In that, he'd never failed her.

He reached for her. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned forward, his heavy-lidded gray eyes shining with naked desire. Her nipples tightened when his gaze touched them, and she strained against the silk scarves, wanting to get closer to him. That she couldn't only made it better for her, made her burn. A fine tremor ran through his hands when he stroked over her collarbone, down to shape her breasts in his palms. Her breath caught as his callused hands stimulated her sensitive nipples. He lifted her breasts, kissed the soft, plumped curves. His touch was gentle, and far too slow to satisfy her. She was so ready when he took her nipple into his mouth and began to suckle that she screamed and jerked on the scarves. Tears blurred her vision and tingles flowed in rippling waves over every inch of her flesh. She was damp, flushed, ready for him to take her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to hurry him up. God she loved this, loved him, loved the way he touched her, kissed her, pleased her. She gritted her teeth to suppress the urge to tell him. Giving him that much would destroy her, and she knew it. All she could do was take what he offered-sex-hot, sweaty and dirty.

The smooth, hard head of his cock brushed over the lips of her pussy. Need clawed at her, made her writhe in response. She arched herself for him, a silent offering, a demand, and he chuckled. The sound was nothing short of sinful, and it ratcheted up her anticipation even further. «I can't wait much longer, Jericho.»

«Yes, you can. You will. And you'll like it.» He moved down her body, his broad shoulders keeping her thighs spread wide, and his breath whispered over the moist folds of her swollen sex. «I promise.»

She whimpered, tugging hard on her bindings, desperate for the wild, mindless pleasure only he had ever given her. The first stroke of his tongue on her pussy made her jolt, scream and twist. His lips closed over her clit and sucked. The breath exploded from her lungs and she couldn't drag in enough oxygen to plead, beg, and cry for more, for relief, for anything and everything he had to give her as long as he kept that wicked promise. Her muscles throbbed with the strain of pulling at the ties on her ankles and wrists, but she couldn't lie still. She craved him so much.

His rough, callused fingertips brushed up the insides of her thighs, raising goose bumps on her flesh and making her shiver. He teased the lips of her sex before easing two thick fingers into her slick channel. The rhythm he set for her was hard, punishing, his fingers and tongue working her until her eyes rolled back in her head. Her entire body shook, fire flowing through her in scorching waves. Her pussy spasmed, locking tight around those fingers. Then he twisted them, hooking his fingertips until they rubbed her in just the right place. A high wail broke from her throat as she convulsed in his arms. Still he pushed her, stroking her and sucking her wet flesh until the need rebuilt, until she was sobbing with the force of a second orgasm rocketing through her.

«Jericho. Jericho, please. I need…I can't…please.»

«Oh, but I think we've already established that you can.» He all but purred the words, his lips brushing against her clit as he spoke.

She licked her lips, trying to focus. «I want you inside me, Jericho.»

«I want to be inside you,» he whispered, his cool breath on her hot flesh making her pussy clench around his fingers. «I want to be deeper inside you than you've ever let anyone. Even me. I want you to trust me enough to let me in that deep.»

The words sent an ominous shiver down her spine, and she knew he was talking about a lot more than trusting him during sex. It was more than she could give him. She closed her eyes, pulling at the silk around her wrists. She wished it was just the bindings that made her helpless in his embrace, but she knew it wasn't. He didn't need to know that though. She swallowed, moaned when his hand began thrusting again. «Jericho, please…»

He sighed, and she could feel his disappointment roll over her, and it hurt to upset him. She knew she shouldn't feel that way, but logic and emotion were two very different things. Rising on his elbows, he settled over her and slid his cock into her. It was so good she wanted to cry.

The hair on his chest rasped her nipples, and she couldn't help how she arched under him to increase the stimulation. He moved within her in tiny thrusts that drove her mad. She lifted her face for him to kiss, wanting his lips on her skin, but he just smiled down at her. His fingers stroked over her cheekbone, and the way he looked at her, so hot and sweet and tender… God, it was the look he used to use when she'd told herself he loved her. What a joke. And, in the end, the joke had been on her. She turned her head into her arm, unable to bear the memories that bombarded her, but she was tied down, so there was no escaping him, even if she wanted to. She shivered. What a horrible, awful mess.

«Don't look away from me, darlin'.» He feathered a kiss over her jaw. «Be here with me.»

Meeting that silver gaze that always saw too much, she waggled her bound wrists. «I'm not going anywhere.»

His gaze searched her face for long moments before a look of stubborn determination molded his features. «That isn't what I meant, but it'll do. For now.»

The slow strokes of his cock picked up speed, and she wished she could wrap her legs around his waist to lift herself into his thrusts. As if he'd read her mind, he angled his hips so he moved within her just right. It was so perfect it was painful, and something crumpled inside her. God, it was going to hurt to lose him again. She stared up at him, wanting to see his every expression, wanting to remember every detail. Wanting something to offset the ugly way things had ended the first time.

Squeezing her walls tight around him, she smiled when he groaned for her. She saw the moment his control snapped, felt the shudder that wracked his big body. He plunged into her hard enough to make stars burst behind her eyes, and she gasped. He buried his face in her neck, but his rhythm didn't falter and his cock filled her again and again, his sharp hipbone slapping against her clit. Orgasm shimmered through her, building so high and fast, she had to bite back a scream.

His bellowing breath rushed against her throat. «No one else has ever done this to you before, have they, Tori?»

«Only you.» As if she'd ever been able to let anyone take control of her pleasure this way. As if she'd ever put herself out there again after how monumental her failure had been the first time. She bucked beneath him, jerking at the silk ties. She wanted him to go even faster, to push her over that blissful edge.

«Only me.» His voice was warm, possessive. Dangerous.

A warning sounded in her mind, distracting her from the drive to ecstasy. Her movements faltered.

His didn't.

If anything, he only made it worse, going faster and deeper, just the way she needed him to. He pounded into her, grinding against her clit, and sent her careening into ecstasy. Her sex pulsed around him, and she did scream then. His head lifted, and his gaze snared her. There was nothing but him, her whole world narrowed to this moment with this man, this fulfillment. Her pussy milked his cock, the contractions rippling deep within her, her orgasm going longer than she'd ever experienced before. He kept thrusting, kept dragging it out for her. She whimpered, writhing in her bindings, her skin so sensitized it was almost more than she could bear. «Come with me, Jericho.»

Shuddering, he gave her what she wanted, coming hot and fast inside her. His eyes closed, and he groaned, the sound rough and helpless. «I love you. I've loved you since that very first night. I love you so fucking much it's enough to kill me again.»

Shock punched her in the belly, knocked the breath out of her lungs. Then reaction kicked in. The agony was like ripping open a festering wound that had never healed. Bitter rage screamed through her, blackened her vision and she heaved underneath him. «Untie me, Jericho! Untie me right now.»

His reaction was immediate. He lunged for the scarves that bound her, letting her loose. She jackknifed on the bed, scrambling to get away from him. He caught her wrist to steady her when she tripped over the tangled bedspread. «Don't touch me,» she shrieked, ripping her arm from his grip. «Don't you touch me ever again.»

«Okay. Okay, let's just be calm for a second.» He lifted his hands in a placating gesture, wariness and hurt flashing in his gaze. «I'm confused by what's happening here. I told you I loved you and-«

«Liar.» The word exploded from her throat. «You never loved me. Never. Don't even try to feed me that line of bullshit. Those words never crossed your lips, not once. Don't try to rewrite the past, Jericho. I was there.»

«Never loved you?» His laugh was an ugly, painful sound. «Hell, woman, I never stopped loving you. I couldn't. And God help me, I tried.»

«Right,» she sneered. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. She wouldn't cry in front of him, and he sure as hell didn't deserve her tears. He wanted to have this out? Drag the past into the present? Fine. Jericho always got what he wanted anyway, so she might as well give it to him. With both barrels. «That's why I found you in a brothel, draped across a prostitute's bed. If I remember it right-and I do-you left me with Enrique and never bothered looking back. Yeah, you loved me. You loved me so much, you couldn't even go a whole night without a woman to warm up the bed. You never stopped loving me, but I sure was easy to replace, wasn't I?»

Fury flushed his face, and he loomed over her, every muscle in his body taut with rage. «That wasn't what happened. I never even looked at another woman, let alone touched one while we were together. I took you back to your brother like you wanted, and I was so fucking miserable about it, I got drunk enough that I couldn't see straight. Hell, I don't even know how I got up the stairs to the room you found me in. I passed out, and I didn't wake up until you came to get me. Nothing else happened.»

Her laugh was every bit as horrible as his had been. God, she hated herself for still loving him. Her voice was little more than a scathing hiss, bile burning the back of her throat. «Nothing happened in a prostitute's bed? Sure. Of course. Right. That's an easy claim to make now, but I know what I saw.»

«You know what you think you saw. You know what you wanted to see.» He caught her arms, and she tried to jerk back, but he tightened his grip, giving her a little shake. «And that was always our problem, wasn't it? Hell, it's still our problem. You don't trust me. Sure, you'll give me your body, you'll come for me so often I don't know how either of us is walking straight, but you'll never believe in me. Believe in us. You may have said you loved me back then, but you've spent every second we were ever together, then and now, just waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for me to hurt you, waiting for me to leave you, waiting for us to fail. The only person you actually trusted was your yellow-bellied coward of a brother.»

«You leave Enrique out of this!» She tried to wrench herself from his grasp again, but couldn't. He was too strong, and she had to settle for glaring at him. «The man's been dead for a hundred years or more, and you still have to attack him. The only thing I ever asked you for was to not hurt him, but you denied me, said you'd kill him without a second thought. So, tell me, Jericho, exactly what did you ever do to make me trust you? We were enemies, and you made it very clear I was a sexual convenience. I'm sure you enjoyed ruining my reputation to spite my brother. It was always about you and him, wasn't it? It was never about you and me. There was no us to believe in. I was just a pawn in the game you two were playing.»

His silver eyes blazed to liquid mercury, and he shook her again, harder this time, his breath bellowing from his lungs. «You make me insane. You did then, and you do now. I couldn't keep my mind on anything but you, let alone figuring out how to dick with your brother's mind. I should have known his attack was coming, but I let myself get distracted by you.»

«So now you're blaming me for your death?» Despite herself, tears sprang into her eyes. She blinked them back and finally managed to squirm out of his grasp. Her legs felt like limp noodles, so she stumbled to the end of the bed, grabbing the footboard for support. She looked up at him, and let herself ask the questions that had nagged at her for over a century. «Why, Jericho? Why didn't you leave when I told you to? I sacrificed so much to go to you, to save you. I betrayed my country, I betrayed my only family. I died to give you the chance to live. Why didn't you run? Was it really so important to kill Enrique? Was it worth your life?»

She expected him to spout some bullshit about honor and duty and standing his ground and not being a coward, but instead he met her gaze head on. «I did run. We were outnumbered, and I knew it. I told my men to retreat, put my lieutenant in charge, and then I chased after you. They were overtaken anyway, but…I was coming for you, not to kill your brother.»

«Wh-what?» Of all the things he could have said, that stunned her the most. Jericho would never admit to abandoning his men to an inferior officer. Unless it was true. She shook her head, tried to pin down her reeling thoughts.

«But to answer your earlier question-no, I don't blame you for my death. I blame your brother, since he's the one who killed me.»

All the blood drained from her face and she clenched her fingers into the iron footboard. «No. No, he couldn't have.»

«He sure as hell could have. He did.»

«It-it had to have been an accident.» She swayed where she stood, her stomach twisting into knots. «He knew how I felt about you. He would never have done such a thing.»

Jericho snorted. «You have no idea how much I would have given for even an ounce of that trust, but the truth is what it is, darlin'. Enrique put a bullet in me. He knew it was me, and whether he knew you loved me or not, it was no accident.»

He had to be wrong. It had to be a mistake. Enrique had been devoted to her, and she'd worshipped him. She couldn't have been so wrong about him. They couldn't both have betrayed her. «Stop. P-please, stop.»

His pewter eyes flashed. «I did what you asked. I didn't go after your brother. And when he found me holding your dead body in my arms, he shot me like I was a rabid animal because I refused to give you to him.»

«Noooo.» The word was a low, keening plea. Not that. Please, God. Anything but that. Her fingers fisted in her hair, trying to block out the truth. She'd begged him, pleaded with him to leave her brother alone. Her last remaining family member, her blood. And it had cost him his life. She'd murdered the only man she'd ever loved as surely as if she'd pulled the trigger herself. Shame curled her spine, and she buried her face in her hands. «It's my fault. It's my fault. Oh, God. I failed you and it's all my fault. We died because of me.»

«No.» He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his lips nuzzling the nape of her neck. «No, Tori, it's my fault. I failed you. I should never have let you walk out of that saloon in the first place, but I was too hurt that you didn't trust me not to cheat on you, that you dared to have any doubts, that you needed an explanation. I was too stubborn to see that if I'd just reached out to you then, given you what you needed, I might have had everything I ever wanted. But I couldn't swallow my pride enough to tell you that you were everything, and I let you leave thinking you were nothing.» He crushed her to him, squeezing her so tight he compressed her ribs. Almost as if he never intended to let her go again, and a sob ripped from her throat at the thought. «It would have cost me so little, just a few words, but I was too fucking stupid to see it. So, we both died. I watched the life drain out of you, and I still never told you I loved you. I've been waiting a long, long time to say those words.»

«Jericho.» His name was a breathy sob on her lips. She didn't know what else to say, what else to do. He was right-she'd never really trusted him, not all the way, not with everything. She'd trusted her brother instead, and she'd been wrong. «If I had only-«

«No.» His soft lips brushed her shoulder. «No more of that. No more worrying about failure. No more blame. We both did things we regret. A lot of things. But we can't change the past. We can just move forward from here-and I want to move forward with you. I want a future.» He swallowed audibly, there was a hesitancy in his voice that she'd never heard before. «If-if you want me too.»

«I…I…» Her mind spun in circles, far too much information jockeying for supremacy in her mind. Jericho had come after her that night. He'd cared. Tears slid down her face as deep sobs wrenched out of her. He rocked her in his arms, crooning soft comfort to her, just…holding her. Somewhere in that dark and ugly storm of guilt and realization, some fragile fragment of joy began to surface. Her soul mate hadn't betrayed her; he'd loved her. He still loved her, and he was here, now, with her. They had a second chance, if only she dared to reach out and take it, if only she was willing to trust it.

Trust. It had always come down to trust, just like he'd said. Trust, and her fear of failure. Pain cinched around her heart at all the time they'd lost, at the life they'd lost. In their own ways, they'd both been unable to truly believe in their love enough to reach out, to make that final step, and it had cost them. But they didn't have to repeat those mistakes. They'd both learned, both grown in the time they'd been separated.

«I love you, Vitoria.» He turned her to face him, his silver gaze open and more vulnerable than she'd ever imagined possible. He didn't hold back, everything he felt was there for her to see. His big hand smoothed her hair back. «My Tori. I love you. I always have. I always will. There was never anyone else. I would never betray you. I love you. If you don't believe anything else I ever say, believe that.»

«I believe you,» she whispered, tears still slipping down her cheeks. «I love you too.»

His beautiful eyes closed, and the skin drew taut across his sharp cheekbones. «Say it again.»

«I believe in you, Jericho.» She reached up to curve her palms around his face, waiting for him to look at her again. «I believe in us. I love you. I never want to spend another day apart from you.»

«I love you.» He buried his nose against her temple, his lips brushing her ear. «God, how I love you.»

She swallowed and let herself hold and be held by him, letting herself trust that their love could last, that they wouldn't fail this time. Just…letting herself absorb the miracle of him. She'd waited so long, needed him so much.

Leaning against his chest, she hugged him tight as sudden fear speared her. «Wait. We're not human anymore. Do you think we'll be allowed to stay together?»

«Oh, yeah.» He smiled against her skin. «The Big Man wants soul mates to be with each other-look at what we do for a living. We're working together from now on.»

«How can you be sure?» If Heaven compelled them to go to different jobs, that was that. Guardian angels didn't get a say in these things. Her heart sank, tears filling her eyes. To have found him again, only to be forced to separate, would be more than she could bear.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, and it made her toes curl. «Because I had two assignments, darlin'. Celia…and you.»