“You should lie down. The bed looks uncomfortable, but it’s cozy once you’re in it.”
The bed?
His voice was smooth and low. The way he looked at her…
There was no way she was going into that bedroom.
“I’m not sleepy,” she managed to say.
“You’re trembling like a leaf.” His hand pressed against the small of her back. “We don’t want you to crash. I insist.”
“I think—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you,” he said. Despite her protests, he was nudging her gently but decisively toward the bedroom. “Just until the meds wear off. Make sure you’re all right.” A pause. “I promise, I’ll be a gentleman.”
Her stomach lurched as she took him in. The heat behind his eyes.
Was this the real reason he’d untied her?
And what came next? Would he simply dispose of her come morning? Or operate like her father, who kept her unwilling mother in line by laying a threat to Khala’s life—a threat so potent she’d toed the line for nearly two decades?
Hena’s breath grew shallow. She had to stall. She needed a way out of this. She opened her mouth to speak. To say something. Anything.
But the words stuck in her throat.
She saw it then: the gun.
It had been in his pocket, but now it rested an arm’s length away on the kitchen island. Had he taken it out once he’d tied her up? Had he forgotten it was there? Or was this a test?
Her eyes flicked to the gun—only for a second, but long enough for him to follow the path of her eyes.
“A gun? Really, Haris?” she asked before he could say anything. “Is this some kind of game? You let me go, only to…what? Hunt me down?”
“What? Hena. It’s not for you. Promise.” His expression softened. “I always have a gun on me. It’s best to be safe.”
This could be her only chance.
There was a brief beat of silence.
Then she lunged, her hands closing around it as he reached for her.
She twisted away from him. Leveled it at his chest.
His hands rose. He backed away.
Which meant it was loaded.
“Don’t move,” she said. “Or I shoot.”
27
•
“Wait!” Panic sharpened Haris’s voice. “Don’t do this. Please.”
Hena kept the gun steady, her arms locked tight, even as her insides shook.
“Familiar words,” she said bitterly. “I said the same once. Years ago. When the man you sent tried to strangle me.”
