Page 82 of Rescuing You

She closed her eyes, fighting emotion. Knowing, knowing Waleed had survived. He was too mean to die. Like a rat or a cockroach, he’d squeezed through some impossibly small crack and escaped.

“I can’t tell by your reaction,” Michael said. “Is that good news or bad?”

“He is a horrible man, and I’m sorry he hurt your friend. You will forgive my foolishness at the hospital? Are we okay, you and me? Or…at least friends?”

“Friends?” His lips ticked higher, genuine amusement. “I hope we’re more than friends.”

“I feared maybe, after all this⁠—”

“You thought maybe I’d throw you over because you made a mistake?”

“I did not tell you about my past. And Splat could have…could still not survive. And you could have died, and now we’re in greater danger because of me. And we might not⁠—”

“Sweetheart.”

The single word silenced her rambling and nudged a little more of that pressure from her shoulders.

“Nothing has changed for me.” His voice was low and gentle and serious. “If anything, my feelings for you have only deepened.”

“How can that be?”

“You’re brave and loyal and strong. I don’t know your whole story, but what you’ve shared… I can’t imagine the life you’ve lived.”

Her eyes stung. His words were too kind. Too generous. Too much to take in.

“How about you?” His tone implied that he was unconcerned, but she didn’t miss the undercurrent of uncertainty. As if she might reject him.

“You saved my life.”

“I’m not looking for repayment, Leila. You don’t owe me anything.”

“That is not what I mean. Only, I always knew you were a good man. Now, I have seen it. A man who is willing to risk everything for me—and my sister. How can I not love that?”

His eyebrows hiked at the L-word, but she didn’t take it back. She wasn’t saying she loved him, only that she loved his heroism.

His heroic heart.

She loved his kindness and selflessness. The way he’d put her and Jasmine on that motorcycle, knowing he might not escape.

She loved the way he’d saved them from Waleed and his men.

She loved the way he cared for his friend.

The way he’d apologized for being unkind, even though she’d deserved his scorn and worse.

She loved his compassion and his competence and his confidence.

She loved…him.

She loved him.

Of course she did. Probably had for a long time, though she hadn’t realized it. She’d never been in love before, after all.

In the awkward silence that followed her strange, unfinished declaration, he said, “So nothing’s changed between us, right? Not for the worse, anyway.”

“At the hospital, I should have done what you said.”

“Yes.” He shot her a look. “You should have. You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”