AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”
She pulled her suitcase from his grasp and took a step toward the door.
“When you told me yesterday you had a talent for nursing, what you really meant is you have a talent for healing.”
Although he didn’t raise his voice, his words sliced through her fear, causing a new, more-panicked sensation. Her heart beat furiously, and she stiffened, frozen in place. In the stunned stillness that followed her gaze flew to his. “I’m not sure what you mean.” She gave herself credit for trying.
“I think you do.” His intense blue eyes captured hers, demanding truth.
A rush of adrenaline sent a shiver up and down her spine, and her stomach tossed and turned and rolled over. She shouldn’t be so surprised he knew she could heal—she’d given him enough clues, and he was smart. It was only a matter of time until he’d figure it out.
She couldn’t hold his knowing gaze, so she looked at the suitcase in her hands, the unmade bed, the window with the billowing curtains…at anything but his face. All the while, she lectured herself. She shouldn’t have prolonged their goodbye. She shouldn’t have gone to the party. She shouldn’t be falling for him because, although she’d lied to him earlier to protect herself and her family, she didn’t want to tell another lie.
“Zoey, look at me. Is it true? Can you cure the sick?”
She took a sharp breath and raised her head until their gazes met. Looking in his eyes, she read stubbornness, knowledge, fear, awe… Looking in his eyes hurt her heart. “It’s time for me to go now.” She intended to be assertive, but the words came out soft and weak, and she still hadn’t moved.
He placed his hands on hers, warming them between his palms. “Please. I need you to be honest with me about this.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” She shivered and pulled her hand from his, an icy, cold resolve filling her chest. She didn’t waste more time thinking, stumbling toward the door.
“My mother is dying.”
His voice was quiet, desperate. He didn’t try to stop her from fleeing the room, but the anguish in his words pierced her heart and held her in place as if he had. She froze again, unable to move forward but afraid to turnaround and witness his despair.
“If there’s a grain of truth to your ability, you could possibly…Zoey, you might be able to save her.”
Don’t turn around.
If she were smart, she’d listen to the inner voice, urging her to flee…urging her to grab her keys and drive straight to the airport. She’d return the rental and find somewhere to hide until she boarded her flight. She’d go back to her life and forget she’d ever met Tristan or his mother.
She turned.
In matters of the heart, she’d never been smart.
Tristan stood in front of her, hands fisted at his side. His tortured gaze met hers, and whatever resistance she’d been clinging to crumbled, washed away by the anguish in his expression.
She found herself setting the suitcase down and moving toward him, placing one foot in front of the other until they stood facing each other, mere inches apart. She studied the raw emotion in his eyes, compassion warring with her own self-preservation. Even if she agreed to Tristan’s request, there was every likelihood she could not cure his mother of Huntington’s.
Her eyes burned and teared, clouding her vision. She risked everything by staying in Cleveland. Dominic would have gotten wind of Hannah’s miraculous recovery and probably suspected her real identity. Even now, Kinetica’s soldiers could be mounting their attack. They would kill Tristan if he tried to prevent them from taking Lillian.
A shiver made a slow circuit down her spine until her toes curled. If she left, she’d be sealing his mother’s fate to one of death. Would he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself?
She still looked into his eyes, but now she reached for his hand, her fingers tingling as they curled around his, their energies merging and blending. He’d not abandoned her when she’d begged for his help. How could she do the same now their positions were reversed?
She stole a breath. “It’s true. I can heal.”
ChapterEighteen
Tristan’s pulse sped up, and he had trouble drawing in air. Was this a dream? Did Lillian really just admit she could heal the sick? Or would he wake up disappointed to find it had all been a fantasy?
“You must understand it’s highly unlikely I can totally cure your mom of Huntington’s.”
Lillian’s serious gaze caught his, her body demanding his full attention as she paced back and forth in the bedroom. She looked angelic with her golden hair, glossy and long, and her pink cheeks.
She stopped pacing and crossed her arms to fix him with a steely gaze. “I don’t want any publicity. Whatever the result, you must swear not to tell anyone, not even your mom.”
“I’ll keep your secret. You have my word.”
