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He stops.
“I’m listening.”
“You’re asleep.”
“I’m not.”
“You just closed your eyes for fifteen seconds.”
“French blink.”
“Bed.”
“No.”
His brows lift.
I pull my robe around my legs.
“I don't want to go to a bedroom.”
Something in his expression changes immediately.
He understands.
No questions.
“All right.”
“I can sleep here.”
“Fine.”
He stands and disappears briefly.
When he returns, he has a pillow and a soft gray throw.
He places the pillow against the arm of the sofa and unfolds the blanket over me.
I stare.
“What?”
“You're very domestic for a cyber tyrant.”
“Go to sleep.”
He sits on the edge long enough to tuck the blanket around my feet.
No one has done that since Papa.
My eyes sting.
I blink it away.
Xavier starts to stand.
My hand catches his wrist.
