Page 39 of The Rivals' Touch

My eyelids flutter as I drag in deep breaths, staring at the empty space where he broke down my defenses. I look over at the open door. His words hover in the air, penetrating the walls that protect my vulnerable heart.

I’m in such deep trouble.

* * *

“I’m leaving on a business trip tonight, pumpkin. I won’t be back for a few days,” my father announces at the breakfast table, flipping a page in his newspaper. His eyes scan over the headlines.

Zayd is glaring at him in between bites of his sandwich.

Ariana holds up a finger and takes a sip of coffee. She puts the mug down on the table. “Don’t forget, kids, that I have a dinner party here on Saturday, so don’t go bringing your friends over.”

Zayd is still trying to murder my father on the spot with his glare. Not that my father is any the wiser; he’s yet to look up from the newspaper.

“What happened to your hand?” Zayd asks, taking another bite of his sandwich.

My father flips his hand over and looks at his bruised knuckles. Then he goes back to reading the newspaper. “I punched a wall in my office.”

“Oh, dear!” Ariana’s eyes grow wide. “Are you okay, darling? Let me take a look.”

Zayd sneers. “You punched a wall?”

My father ignores Zayd as Ariana worries over his hand.

“You should’ve said. I could have taped them up for you.”

“It’s only a scratch.”

Zayd’s eyes clash with mine.

“Oh, darling. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I lower my gaze to my bowl of cereal. The knowing look in his eyes clogs my throat with emotions.

“When is Bennett coming to visit, pumpkin?” my father asks, folding the newspaper. Ariana’s motherly doting has made him give up on reading it. For now.

“Next weekend.”

Zayd’s jaw hardens.

I raise my finger and flip him off.

“Oh, I so look forward to meeting him.” Ariana smiles.

“He’s an outstanding young man. It’s anyone’s guess how my daughter has managed to keep hold of him for this long.”

My father’s words hurt, but I don’t let it show. Zayd, however, snaps his eyes to my father.

I shake my head at him.Please, don’t say anything stupid.

“Do you always put your daughter down?”

Like that.

I lower my face to my hands.God…

My father stares at Zayd for a long minute.

I don’t look up from my hands, but I know my father well enough to recognize the screaming silence that precedes one of his outbursts. Only it doesn’t come.

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