Page 73 of Ruthless Regret

This time when I look at him, I take in the hard lines of his face, and my stomach flips. There’s a flicker of something between us. An understanding. A connection I don’t really want to acknowledge, but I can’t avoid it. It’s there, raw and undeniable. It makes me shift uncomfortably on the bed, while he watches me out of dark, steady eyes that seem to see everything I’m trying to hide.

The tension between us feels different now. It’s no longer full of sharp hostility. It’s softer, but just as dangerous.

I don’t ask what he’s thinking. I don’t want to know. But the air is charged, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re standing on the edge of something we won’t be able to come back from.

He shifts his weight, and I look away, trying to push away the odd feeling spreading through me. But the way he’s looking at me now … it’s like he sees me.Reallysees me. Not the young girl who stole his freedom, or the woman he wanted to destroy, but the person underneath it all.

And it scares me.

He moves, turning away slightly, but his gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, and then he’s striding across the room toward the door again.

“Zain, wait.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “I … I don’t want to be alone.” I don’t even know why I say it, and for a long moment he doesn’t move. I half expect him to leave anyway, to walk out and close the door.

But then he turns back, his gaze locking onto mine, and walks slowly back to my side.

Embarrassment courses through me. Admitting I don’t want to be alone feels like the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever said, but the words are already out, and I can’t take them back.

“I just … I don’t want to have any more nightmares.” I shake my head. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to stay.”

He doesn’t say anything, his head tilting as he looks down at me. And then without a word, he moves to the chair near the window and sits down.

I blink, thrown by his behavior.

“Really, you don’t?—”

“I’ll stay.” His voice is low and steady. There’s no hesitation, no uncertainty in his words. He’s made up his mind. And for some reason, that reassures me more than anything else.

The tension in the room shifts again, and for the first time since I woke up from the nightmare, I feel like I can breathe.

“Get some sleep.” His words are quiet, more of a suggestion than an order.

I should get up, change into pajamas, but the thought of doing anything that might make me feel more vulnerable stops me. So I stay where I am, shuffling down the bed until I’m lying down, and pull the covers up to my chin.

I try to relax, but it’s hard. My mind won’t let me. There’s too many thoughts and emotions swirling around inside me—fear, relief … confusion.

Knowing Zain is close, and that he’s not leaving … it shouldn’t matter.

But it does.

I close my eyes, and try to focus on sleep, while the awareness of him sitting just a few feet away teases the edges of my consciousness.

I steal a glance at him through my lashes. He’s still, barely moving, but there’s something about the way he sits there, watching over me, that makes me feel secure. I turn my head away, staring up at the ceiling, and force myself to focus on anything else.

I should hate him. I should still be afraid. But right now, the only thing I feel is …safe.

It’s strange.

I’ve never felt safe with him before, yet there’s a quiet reassurance in his presence.

I’ve never felt safer being watched over by someone I should hate.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

ZAIN

I should leave.That’s what I keep telling myself as I sit in the chair by the window, watching her sleep. But I don’t move.

It’s been hours since she fell asleep, and I’ve spent every minute of it trying to sort through the mess in my head. Everything feels off. Nothing is going the way I planned.

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