“That’s not a guarantee.”
“I’ve been with you, so I can’t vow that she is still with Omen, but neither can I imagine any scenario where she isn’t. But I won’t lie—that’s speculation on my part.”
Leighton shifted her gaze to the food, which now looked terribly blah. “I’d go…” When he touched her shoulder, she bounced her gaze to his. Fell into the mesmerizing sea-blue pools.
“Thank you, Leighton. Your trust means a lot to me. And it will make plan changes infinitely more simple.”
Wary, she drew a kebab off the tray and stared at it, not sure she had the appetite for it. “Seeing that massive lion knock you to the ground, seeing your chest shredded, I felt…terror. As if the one thing keeping me safe was being ripped away. I knew…knew if you died, I died.” Swallowing around a thick throat, she told herself not to cry. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t a helpless maiden. “You stood up to Maaz and Rayan, even Nasir, for me.”
“It’s my job.”
Her heart stuttered a little at that, then she peeked at him. “Is that all I am, your job?”
His hand drifted to her cheek. “No.”
Nervous jellies swarmed her belly. “If I’m going to die,” she said, tears pricking her eyes—heedless of her command to stay strong, “I don’t want to die with them, in that palace. I don’t want that to be my last memory.”
Apollo angled closer and tucked his chin to urge her gaze to his. “I am not going to let you die. It will take a lot more than a lion to bring me down.”
“I was terrified when the lion knocked you away. When you hit the ground with that awful thud.” No idea why, but there was suddenly a torrent of tears. Uncontrollable and all-consuming. It was all so much—Ummi, the royals, the king, the stress of being what everyone wanted her to be, not being what she wanted to be.
His arm hooked her shoulders and pulled her close. She welcomed the comfort, the strength of him as she pressed her face to his shoulder—thankfully the uninjured side—and cried. Furious with herself for doing this again, she tried to stem the tide, but it just made things worse.
He held her close. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispered against her ear, so soft she almost didn’t hear it. “You’ll be safe. When this is over, you’ll never have to pretend or lie again.” His lips teased her temple, making her stomach spasm. “No more secrets.”
Which made her cry more. She was a complete, blubbering mess, and he was a lifeline. An anchor in this storm of her life. As the tide overwhelmed her, she clutched his shirt?—
Apollo sucked in an audible, tense breath.
The stitches! She jerked up—and cracked her head right against his cheek.
He grunted.
Mortified, she drew back. “I’m killing you!”
He huffed a laugh, and when she tried to pull away, he slid a hand to her nape. “Hey.”
Feeling as much as hearing him, Leighton stilled. Didn’t want to look up, but also couldn’t avoid the lifeline in the chaos that was Owen Metcalfe.
Blue eyes beckoned her into a paradise of hope and protection. Invited her to release the emplacements around her life and heart.
She sank into the warm reassurance of his presence as their foreheads touched. Mercy, he was so close. Smelled so good—even if his scent was tinged with antiseptic from the clinic. It was just a beautiful reminder of what he’d already done for her. That with him, she was safe.
He shifted his face, eyes trained on her mouth.
Oh, yes please! Please, kiss me!
The gentle lift of her chin toward his was the invitation and permission he’d been waiting for. Owen captured her mouth with his, gentle yet firm so she did not doubt the fervency of what he felt. Her lips were supple and sweet against his, yielding, accepting.
He cupped her face, feeling a tremulous, dangerous fire roar through his gut. As if he had unleashed some powerful force that could steal his soul. He wanted her closer, in his arms. To hold her. Reassure her. Claim her as his.
Fueled by that fire, he pulled her closer. And instantly regretted it—her hand at once landing on the stitches of the worst, deepest gouge. Now the fire that erupted had nothing to do with passion or this beauty who had let him into her dark world. He recoiled and choked back a grunt. Broke the moment.
Concern splayed across her features. “I’m sorry—are you okay?”
He hunched as if that might protect his chest. Had this feeling God put those claw marks in exactly the place that would keep him in line. But he couldn’t resist flirting with her. “Kiss me and make it better?”
She laughed, her cheeks flushed. “You’re incorrigible.”
