Chapter 14 #2
“Nouri, stop,” he said, landing a hand on her knee. “I’m glad you have something to look forward to.” Some strange thing rippled through his features, tugging his gaze down, away.
“Thanks. I guess I just got scared when Maaz suggested sending us back right away. Not because—” She almost did it again. “Well, you know.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Besides, I hope plans don’t change because…” He swiped a hand over his mouth and winced at the stitches along his jaw.
That mention of plans not changing was about Omen coming. Wasn’t it? Thankfully the phraseology kept any spying ears from understanding. But why didn’t he want that to happen? Hadn’t he been adamant about getting her to safety? “What?”
Turning his gaze to hers seemed to hurt, likely tugging his stitches. There was a concern in those pretty blue eyes. Guilt. A knowing.
“What?” she repeated with a laugh she didn’t feel.
“I don’t want—”
Two raps on wood startled them both, then a second later, the tent flap adjusted. “Hello? Food for you.”
Though Apollo stood as Chacha entered carrying a wood tray piled with meats and vegetables, Leighton found herself paralyzed by the two words he’d spoken before the knock. He didn’t want… What? What didn’t he want?
Me?
It was a silly thought, considering she was just a mission to him. Mercy, after all they’d been through, the truth of that stung.
“You okay?” Apollo returned to the couch, eyeing the meat on the ottoman. “You’ve got that look again.”
Surprise lifted her gaze to his. “What look?”
“The cornered-rabbit look.” He gave a weak smile as he chose a kebab and tugged off a cube of cooked meat, then paused. “Look, hey, I know I said some mean things at the clinic. I wasn’t myself.”
It was easy to wave that off. Not so much that he might not want her. She hated that the thought was in her head now and tried to rebuff it.
Maybe she should ask him about it and get it over with. “Before the food arrived, you’d said you didn’t want something, then got interrupted.” She eased onto the floor and picked up some cheese from the tray, daring to look up at him.
Guarded, tense, he watched her. Sighed. Pulled the meat from the kebab. “Your suggestion at the clinic…”
When he didn’t finish again, she eyed him, saw him lift his eyebrows in meaning—a reminder that the room could be bugged.
She nodded that she understood.
“It’ll probably happen.”
Her heart skipped a beat, locked in his gaze. “That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah.” He focused on the food, chewing. Picking another. “I just…” There he went again, not finishing his thought. “I hate not knowing where or when that change will happen. But here is smart.”
“Here.” Which would mean tomorrow.
He ate a roasted vegetable. “Yeah.”
“And you don’t want that change to happen tomorrow?” How did that make sense? He’d been all about getting her to agree to an escape.
His expression seemed sheepish. “Yeah,” he conceded. “They gave me a way to know”—he tapped his ear and lifted his eyebrows in meaning—“but I think I dropped it. It’s gone.”
His ear…oh, a communication ear piece. Wait— “You lost it?”
Apollo looked chagrined. “Go easy on the wounded hero, okay?”
That made her falter, but questions were zipping through her fried mind. “How will we know…if plans change?”
He hesitated, then lowered himself to the floor next to her. “So, you’d go…?”
Yes, she would. But it felt too easy to say that. Too careless.
Leighton leaned back against the couch and wiped her hands.
Eyed the raw, stitched flesh of his jaw, a painful reminder of the very real threat to them that existed.
“Knowing someone is trying to arrange my death, putting you in danger…” she whispered and shifted to face him. “Swear to me Ummi is safe.”
“Last I knew…” He, too, kept his words very quiet.
“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.”
“My mom says that too.” He really liked the color he’d put in her face. Liked this casual banter as well.
Leighton laughed. “She sounds like a very smart woman.”
Great job ruining the moment, Apollo. But at least she wasn’t running off or shoving him away.
“My mom is pretty amazing.” He visually traced Leighton’s face, thought of all she’d been through.
All she’d fought and endured, yet came out stronger, tougher.
“You’re a lot like her.” He smoothed the hair around her face. “Right down to your dark hair.”
“I can’t believe kissing me didn’t hurt your jaw,” she said.
“If you’re really in doubt, we can try again so you’re sure.” He stole another kiss.
She sniffed and looked down, more color infusing her olive skin. “And here I thought you didn’t want me.”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“When you said you ‘didn’t want’ and got interrupted—I thought it was me you didn’t want.”
He sniffed and shook his head. “No…I’d planned to say I didn’t want to lose you.”
Lips parting in surprise, she studied him.
“But then I got gun-shy, wasn’t sure I had you to lose.” He stroked her cheek. “You are so beautiful.”
“Apollo—”
“How about ‘Owen’ in our kissing moments?”
She arched a rueful eyebrow at him. “Plural?”
“If that means more than one, yes, please.”