“What kind of reward?” she asks.
Interesting.
She meant to sound sharp. Suspicious. Defensive.
But sleep has sanded the edges down, and something warmer slips through. Not permission, not exactly. Not invitation in theclean sense. But curiosity. Awareness. The echo of a kiss neither of us has mentioned since the car.
I look at her mouth.
She notices.
Of course she does.
“The kind you can agree to when you are awake enough to mean it,” I say.
Her eyes search mine.
For once, she seems uncertain whether to fight me or believe me. I enjoy both possibilities.
“I’m awake,” she says.
“No.”
“I am.”
“You are being carried down a hallway because you fell asleep sitting upright beside a feverish child.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“It proves enough.”
She frowns. “That sounds almost respectful.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“There he is.”
I shift her higher in my arms as we turn toward the guest corridor. Her hand, which had been loosely curled against her own stomach, moves to my chest on instinct. Not to push away. To steady herself.
She notices a second after I do.
Her fingers tense.
I do not comment.
Some victories are better left unannounced.
“I’ll reward you,” she says finally.
The words stop me this time.
Only for a breath.
Omar is no longer behind us. The hall is empty except for the two guards posted near the far corner, both suddenly fascinated by the wall. Maya’s eyes are half-lidded, but they stay on mine with enough awareness to make the moment dangerous.
“You should be more careful with offers like that,” I say.
“I didn’t say tonight.”
