She had cut him off in an embarrassed stammer, yet another crack in the walls he so despised.
“Then what changed?”
Her hands twisted tighter in the sheets.
Zacharie waited.
But she offered nothing else, and the silence stretched between them, heavy with everything she wasn’t saying.
Fine.
He withdrew his hands.Slowly. Perhaps more slowly than necessary, his fingertips dragging across her skin in a way that could have been accidental but wasn’t.
Her whole body shuddered.
“A-Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” Still not looking at him. Still that soft, muted tone, like she was speaking from somewhere far away, and he was nothing but a stranger performing a service rather than the man who had carried her through gunfire twelve hours ago.
And yet...
Her pulse was still racing.
He could see it fluttering in the hollow of her throat.
So what had changed?
What had happened between last night and this morning to make her build this wall?
A part of him wanted to shake the truth out of her.
Threaten her even.
But his control held through at the last moment, and Zacharie nodded toward the tray instead. “You should eat.”
“I will.”
He rose from the bed even as his lips tightened at her still-mumbling tone. “I have business to attend to. If you need anything—”
“The button. I remember.”
She was speaking so fast, he could not help but feel that she just wanted him to leave.
Why?
Zacharie paused at the door.
Look at me.
The words burned on his tongue. He wanted to say them again. Wanted to cross back to the bed and tip her chin up and force her to meet his eyes, to see whatever it was she was hiding from him.
But since only madness lied ahead if he were to say and do any of those—
“Rest,” Zacharie bit out. “The doctor will check on you this afternoon.”
He turned away, and his jaw clenched.
