Hold Me Close - Talia Hibbert Page 0,278

in the dawn light, trying to convince himself that these feelings were nothing to worry about. Nothing he hadn’t experienced before with every other woman he’d been genuinely attracted to.

But he didn’t think that was true.

The emotions surging to life inside him were too intense to face head-on. All he could do was take glimpses from the corner of his eye, and feel their warmth, and know that he didn’t want to dismiss them just because they complicated things. In the end, he’d devised a simple solution: right now, he would be whatever Rae needed. Because she deserved it, and because, for this weekend, she’d asked it of him. The rest, he could deal with later. He’d figure it out, probably when he was back at work next week pounding a lump of metal into art.

She finished the cereal bar in record time and tapped his nose with the empty wrapper. “Hey, daydreamer.”

“Says you,” he smiled.

She smiled back, so suddenly it took his breath away. “Thank you for this. No-one’s ever—” The words cut out abruptly, as if they’d been snatched back. She frowned like her tongue had gone rogue and snapped her mouth shut with an audible click.

“No-one’s ever what?” he demanded.

“Nothing.” She turned away from him. “I should get back to work.”

She meant that last part; he had no doubt. But that didn’t make it any less of an excuse. “Tell me.”

Her glare made him want to smile because it said she was still with him, irritated but easy rather than stiff and distant. “No.”

“Tell me, or I’ll tickle it out of you upstairs.”

“Oh, piss off,” she muttered, the glare sharpening. “I was just—I was just going to say—” The words had jagged edges, as if she physically couldn’t manage them. But in the end, she pushed past it, chin up, eyes dark with determination. “I was just going to say, no-one’s ever really looked after me before.”

The words, quick and quiet, silenced him utterly. He hated everyone who’d failed her so thoroughly that she was moved by a fucking cereal bar and some water. He was desperate to really look after her, not just for an audience but every damn day, as if he had the right. But most of all, he wanted to touch her. Kissing her would be ideal, except he didn’t feel like he had a valid excuse. There was no reason to fake-boyfriend her right now, not to that level.

He wanted to do it anyway.

She shrugged and added airily, “Of course, I suppose that’s what you’re here for.”

The words sounded wrong coming out of her mouth because five seconds ago she’d been nervous and embarrassed. Zach shot her a hard look. She must realise that this wasn’t part of the performance—that he just cared about her, for Christ’s sake. But her gaze avoided his with impressive determination, so, clearly, she preferred to ignore that particular fact. Perhaps she found tenderness easier to take if it was disguised as something else.

Alright. He could do that. He could ease her into being looked after.

Since it was his job, Zach kissed her forehead before straightening. “Go on. I know you’re dying to get back to work.”

And she was. She flashed him a grateful smile, then turned to the girl with the braids and said, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” the girl chirped, rushing up to the table. “Is that your boyfriend?” She lowered her voice, but Zach still heard her as he walked away. “He’s so handsome.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Rae murmured, and she almost sounded… dreamy.

He bit back a smile. At least his face was good for something.

Convincing Zach to attend an afternoon panel without her wasn’t easy, but in the end, Rae managed it. The discussion of complex magic systems sounded fun, but she knew herself well enough to realise that she was overwhelmed by the busy day so far. She needed to lie down like an old Victorian lady. She also needed a couple of hours away from Zach, because trying to convince everyone that they were together, while subtly showing him she knew they really weren’t, was starting to depress her.

But when she reached their shadowed, still-messy room, she didn’t feel relieved or relaxed. Instead, she was de-energised, like a flower taken out of the sun. She told herself it was tiredness, and her ever-weary body allowed the white lie. She’d slept wonderfully last night, but she could always—always—use a nap, so she peeled off her clothes and dumped them on the back