And definitely don’t think about how badly he wanted to knock on her door right now just to hear her voice say his name.
He groaned softly and shoved a pillow over his face.
This was not the time.
Chloe needed him steady and present.Rational.She was barely holding her denial together with sheer willpower, and if Danicawasthe villain, the fallout would be nuclear.Leo had spent his life protecting Chloe from disappointment and betrayal.The idea that the worst of it might come from inside her own family made his heart ache.
Anja was a dangerous complication he hadn’t planned for.Didn’t necessarily want.Definitely didn’t need.
But want didn’t care about timing or reason.
He dropped the pillow and stared at the ceiling again, pulse slowing only slightly.
Anja was strong, capable, and terrifyingly brave.She’d seen him at his worst when he was shaken, vulnerable, and nearly killed, and yet, she hadn’t flinched.Hadn’t made a joke or tried to soften it.She’d simplyacted.
That kind of woman didn’t come along often.
And wanting her, really wanting her, meant risking something else being taken away.
Leo closed his eyes.Family first, he reminded himself.Always.He would deal with Danica, and he would protect Chloe.He would keep his head on straight.
And Anja?
That was a problem for another day.
Unfortunately, as sleep finally crept in, his last thought wasn’t of danger or betrayal, but of the blonde woman down the hall who had already proven she was willing to put her body between him and a bullet.And how terrifyingly hard it was not to want more than that, not just from her, but from the life that came with her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chloe surfaced fromsleep slowly, warm and disoriented, the way she always did when she forgot, just for a second, that nothing about her life was normal anymore.
Kayne was sprawled around her, one heavy arm draped over her waist, claiming her in his sleep and never bothering to let go.His warmth soaked into her back, solid and reassuring.His breathing was steady and deep.She hadn’t achieved that amount of calm on her own for weeks.
For a fleeting, treacherous moment, she let herself pretend this was real.That there was no stalker or threat.No locked doors or contingency plans.Just a man in her bed who smelled faintly of soap and heat and something unmistakably him that she would recognize in a room packed with people.
Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, and her body went rigid.Calls this early were rarely good.
