Chapter 29
Ramzi woke to the soft whoosh of the door sliding open. For a moment, he didn’t move—just listened. Then he glanced down and felt something inside him shift.
Tabitha was asleep, curled awkwardly beside him, her head resting against the mattress near his hip, her fingers still gently wrapped around his. Even unconscious, she hadn’t let go.
The sight tugged at something deep in his chest.
The soft click of heels on tile broke the quiet, and his gaze lifted to the doorway.
His mother had just entered the room, her elegance undiminished by the sterile hospital setting. She halted the moment she saw him awake, eyes widening.
Ramzi lifted his good hand and pressed a finger to his lips, glancing at Tabitha. No one spoke.
“You’re okay?” Marianna whispered as she stepped closer to the bed, careful of the machines and wires.
“I think so,” he murmured, turning slightly so she could kiss his cheek.
“You look like hell,” his father muttered as he followed her in, but Ramzi could see the crack of emotion beneath his gruffness.
Rylan, his younger brother, appeared behind them. Tall and imposing, his arms crossed tightly. His glare was fierce. “You wouldn’t dare die on us,” he hissed—then immediately looked at Tabitha, guilt flickering across his face.
“Not a chance,” Ramzi replied, the words breathless but warm with amusement.
At his side, Tabitha stirred. Ramzi watched as she blinked groggily, slowly lifting her head. Her eyes were rimmed in red and heavy with exhaustion, and when she realized there were others in the room, she stiffened.
“What…?” she whispered hoarsely, and sat up—only to wince and cradle her arm.
Ramzi’s heart twisted. She must have stayed there like that for hours, unmoving, holding his hand.
“Who are you?” she asked warily, inching backward as though trying to make herself smaller. Ramzi could see the instant she registered his mother’s perfectly tailored outfit, then looked down at herself—the wrinkled, blood-streaked rose silk dress, the tangle of her hair. Her panic spiked visibly.
“This is my mother, Marianna el Sandir. And my father, Sheik Amit el Sandir,” Ramzi explained gently.
A soft curse slipped from Tabitha’s lips before she could stop it.
His father chuckled. Rylan outright laughed. His mother only offered a serene, amused smile.
Ramzi wanted to laugh too—but the dull throb in his skull and the weight of his arm kept him still.
“I should go,” Tabitha said, her voice thin and tight. Her eyes flicked to the door.
“Nonsense,” Marianna replied smoothly. “My son’s guards told me you’ve been with him nearly thirty-six hours. You haven’t even eaten.” She turned to a man just outside the doorway. “Please bring something nourishing for Ms. Jones.”
The man gave a respectful nod and vanished.
But Ramzi could see the fight or flight rising in Tabitha’s eyes.
“Mom,” he rasped, “could you give us a minute?”
Marianna paused, glancing between him and Tabitha. Then her smile softened, and she stepped back. “Of course, darling. We’ll be right outside.”
She lingered just a moment longer.
“Thank you,” she said gently to Tabitha. “For staying. For… talking to him all night.”
Tabitha looked caught off guard, like she wasn’t sure whether to curtsy, nod, or apologize. But before she could say anything, the door closed behind his family.
Ramzi turned back to her, extending his good hand until he found hers. She didn’t hesitate to take it.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice still gravelly.
She laughed, the sound breaking halfway into a sob. “I wasn’t hurt,” she whispered. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch his cheek. “Apparently, you tackled me to the ground and took the knife meant for me.”
He arched a brow, the movement tight with pain. “Is that why I can’t feel my damn arm?”
Tabitha nodded, her smile wobbly. “Yeah. That and the concussion from hitting your head on a table on the way down.” She pressed his hand tighter against her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Well,” he muttered, trying to lift his brows but giving up when the effort hurt, “that sucks.”
She hiccupped a laugh, brushing his knuckles with her lips. The relief in her eyes nearly undid him.
Then he gave her a crooked, sleepy smile. “You know... everyone’s gonna think you’re in love with me now.”
Tabitha’s tears streamed silently down her cheeks. “I am,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I know that wasn’t our dea—”
Ramzi pressed his thumb gently over her lips, silencing her.
“It was all a ruse,” he murmured, his voice low and raw, “just to get closer to you.”
She blinked, uncertain she’d heard him right. “What?”
A crooked smile tugged at his mouth, though pain still etched the corners of his eyes. “I mean… the whole thing about protecting your mother from gossip? That was complete crap.”
Tabitha gaped at him.
“I like your mother,” he added with a short laugh. “But this weekend? It was all a setup. I needed an excuse to be near you.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. I wanted you, Tabby,” he said, the teasing warmth in his voice dimmed only slightly by fatigue.
“For the past three years, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get you to see me as a man—not just your boss.
So when your mother mentioned this wedding, I thought, perfect. Two birds, one stone.”
She tilted her head. “And what was the other bird?”
“I hated that you were pining over some cheating jackass.” His eyes gleamed. “I was jealous.”
Tabitha’s laugh broke through the last of her tears. “You? Jealous?”
“Green. The kind of jealousy that makes a man consider punching a guy he’s never even met.”
Her smile faded slowly as she stared into his dark eyes. “You really… wanted me?”
His brow lifted. “Have the past two nights taught you nothing?”
She climbed up onto the edge of the bed. “That’s just sex.”
Ramzi reached for her, brushing his thumb down her damp cheek. “I love you, Tabby-cat,” he said quietly. “You’re it for me.”
She opened her mouth, but again, he touched her lips with that same thumb.
“And don’t even try to deny it,” he warned with a slow grin. “I know you love me too.”
She squinted at him. “A little cocky, aren’t you?”
“Stacy told me.”
Tabitha gasped. “She did not!”
“She did,” he said smugly. “And I’m going to punish her by flying her to Uftar to do your hair for the wedding.”
Tabitha froze, her smile slipping away as reality caught up to her. “After everything that happened—after yesterday—you still want to marry me?”
His gaze was steady. “Yes. I want to marry you. For real.” He gently ran his thumb along the base of her ring finger, brushing over the diamond. “This was always real to me. I just needed you to catch up.”
She leaned in, her lips brushing his with a softness that made his heart twist. “I love you, Ramzi. I’ve loved you since the night you stole my sweet and spicy shrimp when we were working late on the Pritzger project.”
He gave her a devilish look. “I knew you liked the shrimp more than the Szechwan chicken.”
“You did it on purpose?” she asked, scandalized.
“Of course. I liked seeing you glare at me.” He smirked. “And you paid me back—with decaf.”
She burst out laughing. “That was a good one.”
He stared up at her, his expression shifting to something quieter. “You’re not afraid of me.”
She touched his cheek again. “I’m afraid for you.”
His hand covered hers. “Then don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hate to be picky, but technically, I didn’t put myself in danger. The knife-wielding lunatic came at me. Big difference.”
“Fair point,” he muttered. “Still—don’t antagonize any more lunatics.”
“Deal.”
She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “You really love me? Like, love-love me?”
Ramzi gave her a slow grin and pulled her closer. “Yeah. I love-love you.”
She smiled, finally letting herself fall forward into his arms.
“I love you too.”