Page 46 of Ruthless Intent

I take it, blot my lips, then sit up straighter, so I can look up into his face. “Thank you.”

His gaze is thoughtful as he stares down at me. “Maybe we’ll leave the meeting my parents for a couple of days. That way, it won’t be as much of a surprise when I tell them we’re getting married. It will make more sense if we’ve had a couple of dates and let the attraction take hold before deciding we’re getting married. One dinner isn’t really enough justification to rush into marriage.”

The matter-of-fact tone of his voice makes me laugh, but it’s not funny. Nothing about this situation is funny.

“It’ll still be a surprise, Zain. No one in their right mind is going to see that announcement coming.”

He holds out a hand. I place the handkerchief in it. His eyebrows dip into a frown. “I was offering to help you out of the car.”

“Oh …” Awkwardly, I take his hand in mine and stand. My vision swims a little, then steadies.

“Will you make it to your front door or do I need to carry you?”

“You absolutely do not need to carry me.”

I take a cautious step forward, avoiding the vomit, and make a mental note to come back out with a bucket of water to clean it up. When I’m certain my legs aren’t going to give out, I aim my body toward the steps leading up to the front door, conscious of the man stalking along at my heels.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

“I do.”

“For appearances?”

“That’s right.”

“There’s no one out here.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not being watched.”

I’m not sure if he means for those words to remind me of where he’d so recently been, but they do. I have no doubt that he was watched all day long while he was in prison. By guards, and by other inmates. It makes me wonder what it was like, what he experienced, what things he was going to repeat with me. And what it’s done to him.

Jason loved this man. I don’t know what caused him to attack my brother the way he did, but before that everything Jason told me about Zain suggested he was kind, warm, and attentive to his friends and family.

What happened to change that?

If the circumstances were different, I’d ask him.

We reach the front door, and I stop and turn, catching my breath when I find him close behind me.

“Do I have to invite you in, for appearances?” I don’t bother to hide how I feel about that suggestion from my voice.

His quiet laugh surprises me. It’s raspy and low. From the dark look that covers his face at the sound, he didn’t mean to do it.

I wonder how often he laughed in prison.

“I think we can forgo that. We wouldn’t want people accusing you of taking advantage of a newly-released man, would we?” His eyebrow arches.

My cheeks heat up when his meaning hits me. He’s been imprisoned for years. He’s been out in the world for less than forty-eight hours. I doubt he’s stopped at any point to have sex.

Oh my god. He hasn’t had sex in fourteen years. If that’s on his agenda …

No, wait. He already said he wasn’t interested in sleeping with me.

“Eight o’clock.” He moves backward down the steps, not taking his eyes off me.

I reach behind me, then remember I need to unlock the door first. But I don’t want to turn my back on him. I don’t want to break eye-contact. This has nothing to do with him, with who he is, or what he did, and everything to do with the city I’ve lived in for the past eight years.

I learned quickly that living in a city is not the same as living in a small town where you know almost everyone.

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