"You're honestly telling me you never visited Sapphire. Cristiano owns the place!" Sammy exclaimed.
"I've never had time to visit the place since I took over the hotel's responsibilities." Zayn replied dryly. "But that's beside the point. It's not safe for–".
He stopped himself from going further knowing Hope was listening down the hallway.
He whispered, "You're going to be exposing Hope to too much. What–"
"Why are you acting like a protective mother hen?" Sammy says, cutting him off. "If you're that worried, come with us!"
Sammy stomped his foot in agitation.
"I'm in no mood for loud music and squeezing through bodies all night to find you both." Zayn argued, trying to dissuade him.
Sammy tilts his head to the side. "You really have changed. You saying no to partying? What happened to the playboy who the hell are you?"
Zayn shoves a hand through his thick black hair and blows out a breath of frustration. He makes a quick glance at the hallway again.
As if she'd read his mind, she emerged from the bedroom and walked slowly towards him and Sammy.
He swallowed noisily as he took her in, feeling his temperature rise. His eyes wandered, resting a little too long on the curves of her lovely breasts, lightly hinted above the hem.
Next, Zayn's gaze rakes over her shapely legs and shoes. . .extra high heeled pumps. Designer black stilettos. With red bottoms. Again.
His favorites.
His weakness.
He could never resist a woman in sexy heels.
Coming to a halt, she stands there in her knee-high dress, all dolled up with hands clasped patiently in front of her. Her eyes reflected a depth of feeling and purity that he'd never seen before even with the heavier eye make-up.
"Hello Zayn." She says, smiling shyly.
Zayn stared shamelessly, unable to tear his gaze away. She was breathtaking. So soft, fragile, and incredibly sexy.
She'd be eaten alive. There was no way she wouldn't make it out of the club unmolested.
"Hello." He replies.
Sammy has been extremely efficient when he was responsible for her but in a club with alcohol and music, he wasn't so sure. He'd be damned if he allowed Sammy to take her to a club without proper supervision.
He clenched his jaw and his eyes hardened, dragging them away from her.
Fuck, he thought.
Zayn shot Sammy a dark look. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed."
Sammy and Hope watch his retreating steps.
"Wonder what changed his mind." Sammy noted with a knowing grin.
Hope sighed a breath of relief. Her growing anxiety decreased knowing Zayn would be there with her especially amongst so many strangers.
Sammy insisted they visit a nightclub so he could teach her how to dance. Bragging how he and the owner of Sapphire rubbed elbows. With one phone call he claimed they were assured free entrance without paying the cover charge and unlimited drinks for the entirety of the night.
The breath she was about to release froze in her lungs as Zayn returned after ten minutes. His hair was brushed back from the rugged plains of his face. The finely tailored sports coat he wore clung to his broad shoulders. He looked so handsome, her heart leaped in her chest.
His gaze raked leisurely over her once more and his eyes met hers.
"The sooner we leave the sooner we can get back."
Sammy was heard muttering his breath. "If Carrie Bradshaw heard you, she would have ditched your ass faster than you can say Big."
Hope compressed her lisp together to keep back a smile. They had been watching re-runs of Sex and The City for part of the afternoon. Sammy got the urge to visit a club watching the main character of the show, Carrie Bradshaw, pleading with her boyfriend Big to join her for a night of clubbing, however, he refused and she ends up going out with her besties instead.
They had the time of their life.
It was time to see if the fictitious show's portrayal of the club scene was just as fun.
******
Sapphire.
The blue neon lights above the entrance illuminated the color blue. It was so strong that the light reflected over their clothing and skin. Outside of Sapphire there was a long line of scantily-clad twenty-somethings waiting for dance and drink.
Unlike previous clubs Zayn had frequented before he took on his full time responsibilities at the hotel, the air was surprisingly cool, not steamy and hot. The interior was chic and mellow. There was a dancing crowd as expected but there were also large U-shaped private booths lining the walls in every direction. Men in suits sipped on drinks, obviously enjoying a drink with colleagues after work. Other booths were filled with men and women mingling in groups in celebration.
The entire club was encased in blue neon lights. The vibe, icy.
Goosebumps erupted all over Hope's skin.
Zayn relaxed his tense shoulders and followed Sammy who was bobbing his head to the pop music blasting through the speakers and Hope who looked like a lost rabbit. Her shoulders were hunched, and her head was down.
By the time they reached the private reserved booth, Zayn had been ogled by dozens of women, had eyelashes batted at him with invitation flaring from beneath their lashes and notes pressed into the palm of his hands.
His eyebrow cocked in amusement, stuffing the crumpled pieces of paper into the pocket of his pants making a mental note to dispose of them in the trash.
Temptation followed him like a magnet and he knew himself well enough to know he wasn't very good at resisting it. It'd been a few days too long since he'd enjoyed the company of a willing woman since he found Hope.
However, and as much as it made him feel like a creep, the only woman he wanted in his company in any way was the innocent Hope who refused to look his way, avoiding eye contact.
Zayn adjusts the lapels of his suit jacket abruptly if not in slight frustration. He kept his lips firmly pressed together as they took a seat on the cushions in the booth and could have sworn over the pounding music he heard Sammy utter pussy magnet.
Zayn's laser sharp eyes pin him with a hard stare. From the corner of his eyes, he found Hope's own eyes widened, confirming, he in fact, heard Sammy all right.
Sammy holds his hands up in surrender.
"Listen, if drunk me says or does something tonight you gotta take it up with drunk me. Don't come at me sober. We weren't there. We don't know what happened. . .cause the last time I was here I kissed a girl and I liked it. I don't know what got over me."
Zayn's eyebrow lifted. "We just arrived. You haven't had a drink so keep your damn comments to yourself." He said bitterly. "There's so much I can tolerate and being in your presence at this particular moment of all times makes me feel like no amount of alcohol I consume will make me more tolerable of you."
"Seriously, you gonna tell me what's got your knickers in a twist?" Sammy asked, completely unfazed by Zayn's rebuttal.
"Tell me Sammy do you have any siblings?" Zayn asks.
The question caught Sammy completely off guard. "Excuse me?"
"Do you have brothers, sisters?" Zayn asks again.
Sammy harrumphed, inspecting his perfect manicure. "God did not bless my parents with another son because perfection has already been achieved. I do have a younger annoying sister though."
"I pity them." Zayn muttered.
Hope heard him, bursting out in laughter.
"What did he say!" Sammy demanded, bouncing on the seat, ready to pounce.
"He said he envies them–Your family." Hope clarified, failing horribly at keeping the smile from resurfacing.
Zayn winks in her direction.
Hope blushes.
My goodness, the charm sparkles from his eyes like fine diamonds. No wonder women fancied him, Hope thought, tucking one of the loose curls framing her face behind her ear.
Sammy had lifted her long hair in a bun releasing stray layers and curling them around her face. He also did her make-up for her. Since it was an evening look, he insisted her glam needs to move up a few notches. The eye make-up must be bolder with a sexy winged line accentuating the upper eyelid. He also applied a sparkling frosty eyeshadow and finished her look with a soft pale matte pink lipstick.
She learned something new that day: when applying heavy eye make-up the lip color needs to be light. Hope had no idea there were rules for make-up too. He even offered her tips on wearing heels.
"When wanting to look taller and sexier, slip on a pair of Christian Louboutin's. They are a staple every woman needs in her closet." He said. "Red bottoms," he added with a suggestive wink, "are a magnet for miracles and you can quote me on that baby girl."
He also advised her to stay away from Valentino.
"They do not deserve our business." Using his sharpest lisp.
Hope caught on to the patterns Sammy routinely used. When his lisp was extra sharp, he was being extra serious.
"Why?" She had asked.
"They weren't good to me, girl. And when they ain't good to your bestie, then you honor your bestie by not giving them your business. Your go to, no matter what, Coco Chanel, you hear me? She's an iconic classic that will never diss you. Besides, whoever said money can't buy happiness hasn't owned anything Chanel. She's all the happiness you will ever need. Remember my words, when in doubt go for Chanel."
Hope felt like a newborn baby who was being taught new things every day and seeing the world with new eyes, glancing down at the new black classic Chanel clutch on her lap. Hope felt just as beautiful as the designer dress she wore and the accessories that complimented her look.
But she had to admit, with everything Sammy was teaching her, it made her feel like a normal girl. It felt good to look pretty all the time. It boosted her confidence and lessened her doubts about herself. Self-care could be bought, enhanced and was less intimidating, but the real world–involving real people and real life situations was the deliberating part she was trying to get accustomed to.
A pretty, tall waitress, in a mini black skirt, silk-black tank top and over the knee boots appeared asking for their drink order. The name tag attached to her blouse read: Tiffany. From the corner of Hope's eye, to her right, she witnessed Zayn eyeing her from head to toe. Sammy, who was to her left, was appraising her sparkly boots.
Hope briefly wondered how the woman handled the stares. She didn't appear uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. She appeared professional, easily ignoring the attention and doing her job with a pleasant expression asking for their drink orders.
Hope expects Sammy to order his usual, a martini, but to her surprise he orders a Fat Hooker. Hope stared at him oddly.
"It's made with part peach schnapps, vodka, coconut rum and pineapple juice." Sammy explained, clasping his hands over his crossed legs. "When I'm in a celebratory mood I order something a little more exciting. Martini's are for the down times."
As Tiffany jotted down the order on her notepad which was placed on the small tray angled between her waist and arm, she turned to Hope.
"I will just have a sprite, please."
Sammy quickly intervened. "Nope, not today honey. She'll have a sparkling glass of your finest champagne."
"Sammy–" Hope began to argue but he would have none of it. She's never tried alcohol yet and she wasn't planning to start tonight.
"Just try it. It won't hurt. If you don't like it, order something else." He shrugs.
"Fine." Hope exhaled in defeat.
As she shifts uncomfortably in the leather cushioned seat, Zayn is heard placing his order. Hope could scarcely hear what his request was over the pounding music. Beside her Sammy could hardly contain his movements, nodding his head and rocking his body to the beat of pop music.
At least one of them was enjoying their time. Zayn was casually seated, legs crossed, an arm resting on the back of the empty spot beside him, drilling his fingers impatiently.
"I'm gonna go dance." Sammy announced. "Let's go, Hope!"
As he got up, he clutched her arm dragging her off the seat.
"Sammy please! I don't know how to dance!" Hope pleaded, pulling back.
"That's why I'm here! I'm gonna show you how it's done!" He insisted.
Hope was standing. Zayn rose to his feet, grabbing on to her other arm. With both men on either side of her, she looked like they were using her for a game of tug and war.
"Let her go Sammy!" Zayn demanded tugging her back towards him. "She'll join you later."
"Fine, have it your way, your assholiness!"
Sammy scowled and nearly collided with the waitress who was carrying their drinks on her black tray.
"I'll take that." He says, swiping his Fat hooker from the tray and strutting onto the dance floor.
Tiffany places her champagne and Zayn's bourbon on the table and proceeds to do her rounds to the other tables.
Hope and Zayn were alone on the table and she was a nervous mess. Zayn reached for his glass and hers, handing it to her. He lifted it, facing her.
"To firsts." He saluted clinking his glass with hers. "Cheers." He said, and laid back comfortably on the seat.
"Cheers." Hope murmured, glancing at him from beneath her lashes as she took a large swallow of the bubbling champagne.
It made its way over her taste buds, awakening them, and fizzling down her throat. Lowering the glass, Hope looked at the beige liquid in surprise. It tasted better than she believed.
"We haven't had a chance to catch up. How have you been handling everyday life since your transition, Hope?" Zayn asked.
"As good as can be expected. Sammy has been quite helpful." She replied, taking a quick drink of her glass.
Rather fascinated, Hope watched the lift and fall of his Adam's apple. The first three buttons of his dress shirt were undone where his chest was visible. He lowered the glass from his lips and licked them slowly as his gaze moved over her.
Hope leaned weakly against the cushions, the quivering sensations in her belly making her feel strange. The room was much too warm now. She took another long swallow, hoping it would settle her nerves. They had never been alone since she transformed and Sammy's appearance.
It was a little unsettling now for some odd reason as she eyed his drink trying desperately not to make eye contact.
"Would you like to try it?" Zayn inquired, holding up the glass of brown liquid.
His invitation jolted her out of his spell. Her cheeks flooded with heat glancing at him from under her lashes, tempted.
"What is it?" She asked
"Bourbon." He answered, his voice wicked soft, nearly impossible to resist.
When he called her again, his voice was velvet, nearly impossible to resist.
"Come. Try it."
He watched her with an expression of quiet intensity.
Heart racing, she scooted closer as she came dangerously near him.
"It's all right." He whispered, holding the glass out to her.
Her heart was pounding, reaching for the glass from his fingers. Zayn watched her closely as she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.
Instantly, her eyes widened then her entire face scrunched in disgust as the strong liquid made a firing sweep down her throat. She coughed, her eyes watering.
"What is this? It's awful!" Giving him back the glass blindly.
He laughed. "It's an acquired taste."
Hope dragged her eyes open and found him gazing at her with a faint, tender smile. She dropped her head, turning scarlet. How mortifying, she thought.
"You look captivating tonight." Zayn complimented, swirling the dark liquid in his glass before taking another large swallow, watching her over the rim.
"Thank you." She murmured, lifting the champagne glass to her lips. Before she knew it, it was empty. Hope had the urge to place the cold glass against the heat on her flaming face.
Another thing Hope learned was she didn't react well to compliments. At the rate she was going, she was about to combust. There was something about the way he watched her, complimented her. He didn't have to say much, his eyes spoke volumes.
"I take it you enjoyed the champagne." He noted, nodding at the empty glass in her hand. "Would you like another?"
"I couldn't–"
"Nonsense. There's no harm. Waitress!" He called out to grab her attention before she passed.
Tiffany shifts in their direction, approaching their table.
"The lady would like another as would I."
"Coming right up." Tiffany replied.
The effects of the champagne were already making her feel lighter. The tension in her shoulders disappeared, her head wasn't clogged with doubt. She felt free. Hope briefly wondered what a second glass would do to her.
"Would you like to dance?" Zayn asked.
Hope shook her head. "I can't."
She'd likely trip in her high stilettos not to mention she had never danced. Plus, she wasn't about to make an utter fool and spectacle of herself in front of Zayn.
"Sammy brought you to a club for the experience. Dancing is another first you should knock off your bucket list. There's no better place. . ." He encouraged, watching her with his intense gaze.
Those stark blue eyes of his enthralled her.
Hope hesitated briefly, her eyes warmed as another wave of heat flooded her porcelain cheeks.
As much as she'd like to learn, Hope was not ready. She felt too exposed in front of all these people. Especially not when Zayn now had a group of female admirers he hadn't noticed watching him from the corner ever since they arrived. They weren't even fazed by the fact he was sitting by her, his attention never wandering to acknowledge their presence.
Hope tried to keep her irritation hidden from Zayn.
"I appreciate the offer but I'm not ready." Her thick dark lashes swept down to shadow her eyes as she bowed her head.
"As you wish." Zayn shrugged and relaxed back, scanning the crowd.
The excited sounds of laughter and music scattered amongst the mass of bodies. Sammy could be spotted dancing with a group of people, clearly enjoying himself with his drink raised.
Hope's eyebrow lifted as her mouth quirked in a small smile.
Tiffany returns with their drinks. Hope quickly reaches for the glass and takes a delicate sip, the sizzling bubbles awakening her tastebuds once more. With every swallow, she felt herself loosen up even more.
Zayn glances at his watch. She wondered if he was bored by her. She wasn't very fun or outgoing. He was probably wishing he was home or in the company of a more sophisticated woman who doted on him all night. Not some introvert who didn't have a clue how to keep a conversation going.
Brazenly, the group of females, four to be exact, approach their booth much to Hope's displeasure. They began immediately introducing themselves to Zayn and completely ignored her as if she never existed. She watched him smile that signature sexy smirk girls liked so much.
"May we join you?" One of them asked. She was on the shorter side, in a tight pink dress that barely concealed her bottom.
It was Hope's queue to leave and allow him to enjoy the remainder of the evening. She did not want him to feel obligated by her presence to send them away.
She rose, excusing herself.
"Hope!" Zayn called out.
She was already making a quick getaway, her back to him as she made her way through the throng of bodies. She didn't know what she was doing or where to go.
Suddenly someone from behind her grasped her arm, half expecting it to be Sammy, she was surprised by a stranger with a sloppy smile gazing down at her.
"Can I help you?" She asks, trying to rip her arm from his grasp. But he was much too strong.
"Dance with me, beautiful."
"No, thank you," Hope replied. "Please release me!"
Everything seemed to move slowly. She finally managed to pull out of his grasp, shoved past him and had barely taken two steps before he clutched her dress from behind.
"Come on, we're just going to have some fun!"
"Get away from me!" She shrieked over the pounding music, but he didn't release her dress.
Hope looked frantically around her searching for Sammy. She was twisted to face the person who appeared obviously overly intoxicated. For the state he was in, his strength outmatched hers no matter how much she fought him.
"Let's have a little fun." He said with a lazy smile. His eyes were droopy, his light hair in disarray, and his clothing disheveled. He towered over her, showcasing his full leering smile.
He scooped her against his body effortlessly, sliding his hands all over her back and further down, pinching her bottom painfully.
"Stop it!" She screamed.
Hope fought like a wildcat, crying out in pain as he groped her. The man lowered his mouth to hers and ground his teeth against her lips.
It hurt like hell.
Hope didn't know who she was or where she came from but something within her snapped and brought forth a fierceness deep within her soul. Her self-worth, that inner pride–wherever it came from, brought forth defensive instincts which told her to fight back. She was not weak or incapable anymore. Always seen like she was some fragile doll, as if that meant she could be taken advantage of.
Feeling defenseless was like falling into the ocean when you don't know how to swim. The effect was drowning.
Powerless.
And Hope had enough. There were things she could control and others she couldn't.
Sheer rage allowed her to maneuver her knee between his legs. The upward jerk brought forth an anguished cry and a stream of profanities. The blow aided her but not for long. The man was bent in pain but still standing, covering his crotch as if it would ward off the pain she inflicted.
Hope realized it would not be enough to keep him down but that was all she could come up with. At least she retaliated which gave her time. She searched frantically for assistance from anyone. But they were all busy dancing, heavily drunk and oblivious of what occurred.
There were so many bodies, Hope struggled to push through them. It was useless. She was trapped. Panting heavily from exertion and her rising anxiety, Hope clutched her head needing to leave behind the music and people.
Her head was spinning, her vision was blurred, the pounding in her ears was radiating pain from her head down to her neck and spine.
It was too much. It was too overwhelming. She was on the brink of having a mental breakdown. All her senses were over-stimulated. She couldn't think anymore. Didn't know what to do.
She felt trapped. Like she was in one of her nightmares where there was no way out.
Arms tightly snaked around her waist as she was dragged from behind.
Hope screamed with everything she got.
"You bloody little wildcat!"
"Get your hands off me!" She snapped as her breath came in rapid pants.
Lights flashed in her eyes, blinding, twisting against him. Finally tugging her strapped hands free when he grabbed her, she reached behind her for his head, raking her nails against his scalp and down the side of his face.
Her assailant screamed in pain, releasing her once more.
Chest heaving, she stood there looking around in disbelief. The crowd of dancers were now staring at them.
"Hope!"
For once during the evening, she exhaled in relief. It was Zayn.
He kept calling out for her, his voice getting closer, pushing, forcing himself through the circle of bodies they made around her.
The dancers moved outward making space and keeping a safe distance.
"Hope." Zayn said, searching her face, her body and slowly resting on the scumbag that assaulted her who was cupping his cheek, blood running down his face from the deep scratches she inflicted.
Zayn's eyes assumed an almost predatory alertness as he took in her appearance once more comprehension sinking in. Hope watched his beautiful blue inky eyes turn stormy.
Hope tentatively touched her hair which had become undone from the loose curly bun. Her lip stung and felt swollen where she was bitten and the hem of her dress was slightly ripped from the altercation. It wasn't until she was glancing down at herself, following Zayn's gaze which landed at her feet did she finally notice her shoes were missing.
She was barefoot. She must have lost them when she was struggling.
Hope was mortified.
Zayn's nose flared and his eyes spit liquid ice.
"Mother Fucker!" Zayn roared.
Without another word, Zayn grabbed the man by the lapels of his suit jacket and punched him not once but three times until the man's head rolled back and thick blood escaped from the side of his mouth. Bystanders from the crowd went to intervene and stop Zayn.
They piled over him, trying to pull him off the now unconscious drunk but it was as if he was momentarily granted superhuman strength. He rose and as he did, the two men only trying to help flew backwards.
The crowd was oddly silent.
He was relentless in his beating. His fury strength was no match. He was too enraged to care.
Abruptly releasing his hold, the drunk's body went down with a heavy thump.
Hope jumped, feeling the thump ripple through the floor beneath her feet.
Two burly Security men made their way through the crowd inspecting the scene.
"Get this bastard out of my sight." Zayn instructed, looking away distastefully as if he couldn't stand the sight of her or the drunk he beat.
"Oh my Lord, Hope! What the hell happened to you? I caught some skank trying to run away with your shoes! Bitches kill for red bottoms."
Sammy was by her side, carrying her heels.
"What did you expect when you're wearing a dress like that?" He watched her, his jaw clenched, as though he struggled to hold himself back. "I warned you something like this would happen!" He directed at Sammy.
A lump formed in her throat, tears burned her eyes. Hope couldn't stand there any longer. Hurrying through the crowd, she ignored the stares. Anger surged through her. She should have not risked coming. Turning away she burst out of the club and took a deep breath of the cooler, fresher air.
Her hands clutched at her arms as she tried to stop the shaking seeping into her bones, attempting to regain control of her emotions and leaning against the building. She hated feeling weak. She was a big girl; she'd been in life threatening situations before. She should have learned by now how to handle her reaction to them far better than she had earlier.
Slowly, ever so achingly slow, a subtle shifting of the shadows snapped her head around. Zayn stood, his icy blue eyes clashing with hers. In one hand he clasped her shoes.
For a moment they gazed at each other. Hope was unable to move.
There was a look in his eyes that made her heart begin to pound wildly. She went very still. Then, he walked toward her with slow measured paces. Hope watched him, her breath catching in her throat. Taking a tentative step back then another, her back met the wall.
He kneeled, dropping to his knees, seizing hold of her ankle and slipped one shoe on then the other. She was all too aware of the shy blush creeping across her cheeks replacing her anger and the trembling in her legs. No one had ever done such a thing for her.
Another first.
Rising he stood to his full height, meeting her head on thanks to the extra height the heels provided.
Standing merely inches from her, she was trapped by the hand he placed against the wall near her head. The other hand captured a lone curl framing her face, ironing the curl flat with his fingertips. When he released it, it popped back up into place.
Hope gulped heavily.
"I like when your hair is down." He whispered.
He did not deny it nor did he apologize for the way he behaved. He merely stared at her for a moment, then lowered his head.
Although he only touched her hair it felt heavenly. She had never been touched by a man in such a way. In any way for that matter. Simple human touch was what she was missing since she woke from her coma. She needed it but was unable to find it from anyone.
But she could not afford tenderness, to care, opening herself to another, the anger returning. Her bitterness earlier came back in full force. He caused her pain.
"You hurt me." She accused.
"I'm sorry."
The breath froze in her lungs, her heart pumped loudly in her chest. Confusion swirled through her as she tried to puzzle out his words and his actions, and how she felt about them.
"Zayn . . ."
Her words faded away as those deep blue eyes burned into hers. His hand slid forward and captured her chin, titling it slightly so that he could examine her expression.
"Are you ok?" He asks.
Zayn had managed to extricate himself from those women. There had been a time when he'd thrived on his inherent ability to attract women. There was a time when he'd revealed in the endless parade of them. But not anymore.
Making his way across the dance floor, the only thing he cared about was reaching Hope and taking her home. He stepped into the crowd of dancers. His gut twisted as he scanned the people gathered together. Uneasiness grew in him as he forced his way through the bodies.
"Hope!" He shouted.
He had to find her. Anything could happen when she was alone and vulnerable.
The crowd of bodies bunched together causing a thick knot of which he could not break through. Something was happening.
Panic clawed at his chest and tore through his insides.
He shoved people aside in his rush. Ignoring the astonished looks he received, he witnessed Hope in the middle of the parted crowd and a man clutching his face in obvious pain.
He froze as he took in her appearance. It wasn't her ripped dress, disheveled hair or missing shoes that triggered him, it was the lost wounded look in her eyes. A fresh well of strength infused him, pure rage sweeping through him and he blindly beat the shit out of the guy who assaulted her until there was nothing left of him.
Now, he stood before her, after impulsively insulting her, praying she'd forgive him for his outburst. He tried to focus on the sweet scent of fruit from her hair to calm him, his blood still humming from the fury he extracted earlier.
"I'm fine, nothing a good night's rest couldn't cure." She replied without emotion. "I'd like to leave this place."
Her expression was flat. She was still hurt by him. The breeze blew loose tendrils of hair into her face that went unnoticed.
"I was out of line. How I reacted was cruel. . ." His voice trailed off. "Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" His blue eyes searched her face.
He took hold of her hand, pressing it to his chest as she stared at him in confusion, frightened she would turn him away. Her light blue eyes looked locked with his, widening. He couldn't make out what she was thinking. Then, her hand curled into his shirt and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her.
She came to him, her small hands curled into his shirt. He kissed her head soothingly as he buried his nose in the enticing scent of her hair. The unspoken gesture was enough to show him he was forgiven.
She was the best thing he'd ever held.
"Let's go home." He whispered.
He'd kill anybody who tried to hurt her ever again.
____________________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading everyone! Also, thank you all so very much for the votes on previous chapters and the comments that I was not able to get to. Please know I read every one and I greatly appreciate all of you and the support you show me.
Hope is coming out of her shell and Zayn's protective side is surfacing.
More to come next Friday!
Please share with others, add to your public reading lists, vote and comment your thoughts!
Thanks again,
Shaz