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Thirty-Seven
Aria pulledthe blanket higher around her shoulders as she looked out over the courtyard. She had no idea what time it was. She only knew that Damian had left after holding her for a long time, neither of them wanting to let go, both aware that this was a turningpoint.
Either Damian would come back with word of Malcolm’s death or he likely wouldn’t come back atall.
Finally he’d kissed her quickly and turned toleave.
She’d waited for him to disappear through the gate that shielded the courtyard to suck in a long, shudderingbreath.
He didn’t need to know how terrified she was, how strong her urge to cling to him, to beg him not togo.
She’d realized then that she would have been willing to let go of her obsession with killing Malcolm if it meant Damian would be safe, if it meant their baby would besafe.
But those were two things that would never be true as long as Malcolm was alive in the world. She would always be looking over her shoulder, always be worried that Malcolm would step out of some dark alley and kill Damian, that she would go to the baby’s crib to find him or hergone.
No, Malcolm had todie.
It was inconvenient and terrifying, buttrue.
She wished she could have gone with Damian. At least then she would have been doing something. But that was impossible. She’d known it even as she’d made her exit from thehospital.
She could push her way onto the plane, could convince Damian to let her travel with him to Thailand, but leaving the gated house and going with him into the city where a criminal element might be waiting to gun them both down — to say nothing of the danger of Malcolm — was too much toask.
And the truth was, it wasn’t even something she wanted to do now. A switch had flipped in her after she’d told Damian about the pregnancy. The baby had been made more real by his knowledge of it, by the beating heart they’d both witnessed on the ultrasound, the grainy image of their child in thepicture.
She owed it to their baby to take care of herself, to stay safe so it could be born healthy and with everyadvantage.
She owed it to Damian,too.
She’d considered using it as a bargaining chip, trading his permission to stay on the plane with her willingness to stay behind once they got to Thailand, letting him know a compromise was waiting for him if heagreed.
But she’d wanted to show him he could trust her, that she would meet him halfway not because she had to in order to get her way, but because she understood that was part of thedeal.
Seeing the relief in his eyes when she’d told him she was staying behind was worth the agony of waiting for his safereturn.
This compromise thing was scary, but she wouldlearn.
They bothwould.
She sighed and sank deeper into the lounge chair by the pool. Somewhere beyond the stone walls, the small man with hard eyes named Sarut patrolled the perimeter of theproperty.
She was safe, and she knew that had given Damian comfort when he’d lefther.
It wasn’t enough, but it was better thannothing.
She settled in towait.
