I sighed, wishing my mind would chill.
And he’s not pushing me into anything. Not my husband to please. Not my…
I had no clue what Alexsei was. Other than my rescuer and hero, I didn’t know how to view him. How Ishouldview him. But with his offer to help me with anything I might need, I was all too aware that he seemed to be clued in to this growing attraction I had no clue how to handle. I sure as hell didn’t know now to hide it. I was also clueless about how to tolerate it.
What if he’s… safe?
I bit the inside of my lip, torn with the urge to do something, to take that big step forward or to let it all die down and fade.
He felt safe.
In his arms, for just that blip of a moment, I experienced such a rush of security. Of strength, not aimed at me or against me, but as an offer of protection.
I gave up.
I couldn’t lie here and not sleep. It wouldn’t do me any good. I wasn’t sure if going out there to talk to him would do me any good either, but doing nothing was no longer an option. Before I could rethink it—again—I got out of bed and returned to the lounge.
He didn’t lower his phone, but he glanced up at my coming back. Still seated on the couch, right where he had been when I left, he didn’t react in any other way.
Only that stare.
Watchful. Curious. But welcoming.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he guessed.
Is he… What is this? Is he teasing me?
I shook my head and sat next to him. Still careful not to presume anything after all the years I was taught to never want something at all, I kept a buffer between us. “Did you mean it?”
He arched one brow. Setting his phone to lock, he gave me his full attention. And what a wicked delight that was becoming. He didn’t glare. He didn’t scowl. He looked at me like I wasn’t a thing to use but a person to talk to. “Did I mean what?”
“That you would help me with whatever I need.”
He nodded.
I watched as he leaned forward to set his phone facedown on the table, giving me more of his focus. “Of course.”
Swallowing hard, I hated the intimidation to ask him to clarify. To inquire if he meant he’d help me figure out what to do with this interest I couldn’t shut off about him.
Or what it would mean if he did.
“I…” I heaved out a shaky breath, taking another huge risk that seemed like a jump off a cliff. “I don’t know how to ask for help,” I admitted.
“Most people don’t,” he replied easily. “Or they don’t want to.”
I liked that. He almost made this conversational, taking the edge off it.
“I think I want to learn how to ask for help,” I said, tense that I would sound like a fool. It went against my training. They’d beaten me to believe that I had no right to want anything, ever.
“Can I make a suggestion?” he asked.
I gazed at him, stunned that he could be this patient. He wasn’t laughing at me. No sinister glint of malice or humor shone from his dark-blue eyes.
“A suggestion?” I asked. That wouldn’t hurt me. He wasn’t going to give me an order. He wasn’t trying to control anything with expectations. He was giving me power to accept or decline whatever he said because it would only be a suggestion.
“Yeah.” He turned slightly toward me, making me excited that I could be worthy of his attention when I’d been conditioned to count on being dismissed.
“Yes,” I replied.
