heart-stopping look. “You improved me.”
“I broke you more like.”
“You married me.”
“Same thing.”
He let out a massive laugh, making my insides flutter and my body tingle.
I laughed too. “By the way, what was your question that was ever so important five minutes ago?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. I want you.”
“Anything to do with Serigala? An animal? A vet?”
Sully frowned before recalling. “There’s a Chinese cosmetic company that’s finally shutting down its animal testing—after our campaign and immense social media pressure. They have hundreds of rabbits, rats, and a few chinchillas that need rehabbing.”
“And you wanted to know if we have space for that many new arrivals?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay taking on several more hundred lives.”
I stroked his cheek. “You should by now that you don’t need to ask, Sully. After all, you have a few more vacant islands. We have room to spread. Of course, I’m fine with them coming here. The more the merrier.”
“And now I want you all the more, woman.” He ducked and kissed me, his tongue aggressive with want and affection.
I pushed him away, my heart dancing. “If you’re that determined, let’s go home and find somewhere private.”
“Finally, you agree.” He smirked, capturing my hand and kissing my knuckles. “Let’s go.”
We smiled and strode toward the hustle and bustle of Indonesian helpers, vet assistants, and habitats.
So far, Serigala was an island where any animal—fanged, farmed, or forgotten—could come to receive vet care, heal, and be placed in a safe forever after home or released back into its natural environment. We’d expanded from the vet care I’d opened on Batari while Sully was in a coma and were almost at full capacity on Serigala. Last year, excavation work had begun on yet another one of Sully’s islands. Kapu-Kapu, Indo for butterfly, would officially start housing all manner of creatures in a few months.
It didn’t matter how many animals needed our help, we would offer them all sanctuary.
Local staff nodded and smiled as Sully and I made our way through the compound with its spacious pens and shelters where even a Sumatran Tiger was housed away from the herbivores like orangutans that’d been a part of a black market pet ring. The tiger had been seized by law enforcement when a large drug cartel was dismantled in Bali. It’d been so badly mistreated that two paws had to be amputated and an eye removed.
Luckily, he was healing and learning to trust he was safe now. I was grateful we’d been able to take away his pain and give him peace, and hopefully, we’d be able to grant him a wild existence, even with his disabilities.
If not, he would always be safe with us, reminding me all over again how disgusting some humans were. I’d lost my temper a few times on assholes who believed their life was worth more than others. I’d morphed into Sully and effectively hated the human race for their selfishness and entitlement.
Every day, I listed the things I was grateful for, and living in the middle of the Java Sea away from society—where even Google Earth didn’t have our coordinates—was high on the list.
Sully being at the top of that very long list, of course.
A couple of years ago, I’d travelled with Sully to America to attend a few days of board meetings that he couldn’t do via online conferences. I’d stood by his side as he’d addressed his head scientists, guided new trials, and approved that year’s business plan. Just those few days, tucked in a skyscraper and breathing in city carcinogens, were enough to make me claustrophobic.
His pharmaceutical company, Sinclair and Sinclair Group, had been impressive. The tour of floors after floors of high-tech labs had shown me another side to the man I’d fallen in love with and married.
But it also made me appreciate how similar Sully and I had become.
We appreciated where we came from. We understood that we were human and had to play the role we’d been given. However, we were so far from large corporation-controlled masses now that we would never fit in. We were no longer fit for acceptable society.
And that was fine by us.
On the third day in America, we’d attempted to go for a romantic dinner and then a movie. To do what so many other couples did. However, we’d lasted as long as the appetisers before we wordlessly agreed to run.
To run back to the airport and leave a day early. To run away from crippling civilisation that we no longer