She moved the laptop to his desk, shifting a stack of files aside.Though his workspace was already filled with multiple monitors and documents, she angled the screen toward him and pointed to a conversation thread.
“Him,” she said quietly.“I’ve been tracking this user for years.I haven’t identified him yet, but I’m almost certain he’s an assassin.I follow his posts, trace his conversations, and I’m slowly building an encryption dictionary for his code.”
She stepped closer, her voice urgent.“I know we’ve only known each other a few hours.You don’t know me, and you have no real reason to believe me.But please...”she whispered.“Would you consider moving hotels?Just temporarily.Until your team can assess the threat more thoroughly.”
Zayn stepped even closer, lifting one hand to cup her cheek.“Why does it matter to you?”he asked, his voice husky and low.
She hesitated.Her answer took a long moment.
Finally, she whispered, “I don’t really know.”
And somehow, that was exactly what he needed to hear.
Becausehedidn’t know either.
He didn’t understand why she was the first person he thought of in the morning and the last before sleep.He didn’t understand the restless pull he felt in her absence, or why her concern for him cut deeper than any security warning ever had.
“Fine,” he said at last.Without lowering his hand from her cheek, he turned his head.“Hasim, find us another location.We’ll be out of here in five minutes.”
He watched as relief flooded her eyes.
“Thank you,” she murmured, pressing her cheek into his palm.She hesitated, then bit her lower lip.“I need to go.”
His thumb traced along her cheekbone, and he felt the shiver that moved through her.
“Come with me,” he said.
Chapter 7
“What?”Azlyn gasped, startled by his words.
That thumb—that damnable thumb—stroked her cheek again.His touch felt like a lock, and she was trapped inside it.Her body craved the contact.She couldn’t seem to move away.In fact, she felt a nearly overwhelming urge to step closer, to melt into his arms, to find out exactly what it felt like to be held by all that power.
“Come with me,” Zayn said again, low and persuasive.
The temptation was staggering.Every instinct in her screamedyes.
But she didn’t know him.
Of course, she’d researched him.Her deep background check had revealed no claims of sexual misconduct, no violent tendencies.
Still.Research wasn’t intimacy.Information wasn’t trust.
“I can’t,” she whispered, finally finding the strength to step back.
The moment his hand fell away, a chill swept through her.Alarm prickled under her skin.And worse—far worse—was the flicker of disappointment she saw in his eyes.
“I understand,” he said, stepping back too.
But the tightening of his jaw told her otherwise.
In desperation, she stepped forward again.“It’s not that I don’twantto go with you,” she began.Her voice betrayed a quiet edge—something uncertain and emotional.She needed him to understand.
He paused, watching her closely as the guards quietly slipped out, closing the office door behind them.She was grateful for the privacy.
Gazing up at him, her heart thudding, she tried to explain.“This is just...strange, Zayn.I can’t just disappear into an undisclosed location with someone I barely know.”She lifted her hands.“There are literallyhundredsof crime dramas that start this way.”
He chuckled, and some of the tension loosened from her chest.
