Page 106 of Billionaire Romance

“You want to leave?” A furrow appears between his brows.

“Can we just go back to the hotel?” I say, hoping my voice sounds more level now. Less panicked and startled. “I just… it’s been a long day, and I’m pretty tired, so…”

“Of course. We can go.” He stands and offers a hand to help me up. Once he’s pulled me to my feet, he doesn’t let go.

On the drive back, he makes small talk. He chats about the weather, about some of his other favorite spots we didn’t make it to today. He makes plans for us to go exploring again. I offer vague non-answers, not committing to anything. Because in the back of my head, all I can think about is how I need to stay away from him. This has gone too far already. It’s clear Ankor cares about me, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t.

If we get any closer, he could get hurt.

At the hotel, he drops me off at the front door. Before I climb out, he leans across toward me. Unable to help it, I tilt my face away from his.

It’s for his own good, I tell myself. To protect him.

But it doesn’t make me feel any better to see the flash of hurt on his face, quickly followed by pain. I reach for the door handle, but not before he takes my other hand in his.

“Sinclair,” he says, and just that, just my name, is almost enough to undo me. To break down any resistance I spent the whole car ride building up. “If I did something wrong today, I need to know. I can’t handle the thought that I hurt you—”

“No,” I interrupt, forcefully. I turn back to meet his gaze, my own fierce. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ankor. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Then… what’s wrong?” He tugs on my hand again, lightly.

I force myself to uncurl my fingers. To break out of his grasp and grab the door handle instead. “It’s not your fault,” I repeat, and I pray that he believes me. “Trust me. It’s me, okay? I just…” I shake my head. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to lie to him. But there’s no way I can tell him the truth, either. “Don’t contact me anymore, please. It’s better that way, for both of us.”

“Sinclair, wait.”

But I’m already throwing the car door open.

“Sinclair!” I can hear him open his own door, following after me. But I race across the hotel lobby, straight for the elevators. There’s one waiting, and I practically leap into it, afraid if I move any slower, if I give myself time to think this over, I’ll cave in and do something I shouldn’t.

I turn around as the doors are closing. The last glimpse I get is of Ankor with his hands lifted, fists buried in his hair, watching me through the lobby doors, a look of deep pain on his face.

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