The Prince's Resistant Lover Page 0,28

feeling and didn’t understand how to handle. “I love you so much. And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I was breaking into your company files illegally. And I promise I didn’t do anything to hurt Surisia. I never sold any information to anyone, nor has anyone ever approached me to do anything like that.”

“I know love. I know it all.” He kissed her again, trying to soothe her but soothing himself as well. “Hush,” he urged when she started crying. “I don’t want to make you sad.” He bent down, trying to see into her eyes. “Why are you sad now? I promise I’ll make everything better if you’ll just tell me what’s wrong.”

She laughed and pulled him closer, her cheek resting against his chest so she could hear his wonderful heart. “I know. And I love you. I’m not sad. I’m happy. You’ve made me so happy I don’t know how to deal with it.”

He hugged her closer once again. “Well, that’s not something I know how to fix.” He leaned back and pulled something out of his pocket. “There’s just one more thing I need to know.”

She blinked, trying to focus on his wonderful face but it was still blurry from her tears. “What’s that? I’ll tell you anything you need to know.”

“Will you marry me?” he asked, holding a stunning, gorgeous ring between his thumb and forefinger.

When her eyes finally were able to focus on the sparkle, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Her mouth fell open, not because of the enormous size of the diamond, but because this was the absolute last thing she’d expected from him.

She glanced up into his eyes, then back at his hand. “Yes,” she finally said, a whisper of a smile starting to form on her face as she realized what he was asking of her. “Yes!” she said with more force. And with that, she threw her arms around his neck, loving the way he picked her up, squeezing her so tightly, she almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t care. Not one little bit as long as he was holding her.

Epilogue

“Do I look okay?” she asked, smoothing down the linen skirt, wishing she’d worn the summer wool dress instead.

Tamar looked down at her pretty blue dress, reassurance shining through his eyes. “You look lovely,” he said, taking her hand in his to give her support.

“Do you think he’ll recognize me?”

That was the big question, he thought. “I don’t know what you looked like as a child. Were you different then?”

They were standing in front of the building now, her hands shaking with fear, anticipation, hope and anxiety. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me?” she asked.

Tamar gave her name to the receptionist, telling her he had an appointment with Royston Carmichael. With a gentle smile, he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Then I will destroy him,” he said, simply and without remorse. He didn’t see the shocked expression on the receptionist’s face as she heard those words, his whole focus on this one woman and her nervousness at meeting her brother for the first time in years.

The simple statement did the trick. She laughed, assuming he was joking with her. But Tamar wasn’t joking. If this Carmichael man hurt his wife in any way, Tamar would ensure that the man’s empire, though very impressive, was taken apart, piece by piece. If the man knew what was best, he would at least feign interest in his long, lost sister.

The receptionist gave them directions to the top floor, explaining how to get up there and who would be at the other end.

They arrived on the executive floor easily, but as soon as they stepped off of the elevator, Wyndi started to have second thoughts. “Maybe he’s fine without me,” she said, looking around for an escape route. “He’s done so well for himself! He doesn’t need me anymore.”

Tamar wouldn’t let her back out of it now. It had taken them over a month to find this man. If he didn’t want to deal with his sister, so be it. But she had to find out. She had to at least talk to him, hear his side of things. But there was also a burning fury in his gut that a man with this many resources hadn’t tried to find his sister. It would have taken so little time, so little effort, but none of the man’s substantial wealth had been expended in searching for the girl he’d lost so many years ago.

“Mr. Yarin?” a dignified woman asked politely.

Normally, Tamar would have corrected the woman on his title, but looking down at his wife’s nerves, he didn’t really care what this assistant called him as long as he could get Wyndi through this quickly.

“This way, please,” she said. “Mr. Carmichael has been expecting you.”

They walked down a long, elegantly decorated hallway. When the woman was standing in front of a set of double doors, she knocked quickly, then pushed her way inside. “Mr. Yarin is here for your twelve-thirty appointment, sir.” And with that, she backed out of the office, allowing Tamar and Wyndi to move inside.

Wyndi looked around and spotted the tall, very handsome man with the dark blond hair stand up and come around his massive desk. “Prince Yarin,” her brother started to say. But as she watched, her brother stopped in midstride, looking directly at her and his whole body changed. “Wyndi!” he breathed. conflict