Chapter 384
384:
He approached the bed cautiously, squatting down beside it. His brows knitted in concern as he looked at Christina. Looking at her now—fragile and unwell—it was almost laughable to still entertain the notion that she might be the masked “man” from the casino, full of strength and charisma. That “man” was bold and commanding. The woman before him seemed weak and frail.
Dylan quickly dispelled his doubts, his heart aching as he gently raised his hand. He gently brushed the space between her eyebrows, hoping to ease the tension in her “sleeping” features.
Christina, feigning slumber, felt the warmth of his touch and the gentleness of his actions. She tried and failed to quell the emotions that began to stir inside her. Dylan, usually so aloof and unyielding, now displayed unexpected tenderness. Yet, her heart, long shut off from countless scars from before, wasn’t thawed by the warmth he gave off.
Still, his quiet care brought her solace, and for the first time in days, she finally relaxed. Weariness embraced her, and genuine rest slowly claimed her. The past few nights she had remained at Dylan’s side in the hospital, her nerves frayed with fear that another assassin might attack. She had slept only in brief, anxious bursts. But now, with danger seemingly gone and feeling safe around him, her defenses lowered.
Her thoughts fluttered like leaves in a storm and then slowly faded as her mind drifted into unconsciousness. Bit by bit, the lines on her face relaxed, and a faint calm washed over her.
Dylan observed the change, the tension finally slipping from her body. Relief swept through him like a breeze. He exhaled softly, his shoulders loosening. Still, he stayed there, unwilling to leave her alone. Not until her breathing turned slow and steady, her skin no longer ghostly, did he carefully rise to his feet. But after crouching for so long, his legs betrayed him, and as he tried to rise, they gave out, making him stagger forward.
Dylan’s legs were numb from crouching for so long, and he stumbled forward the moment he rose to his feet. He couldn’t support himself with just his palms, so, reacting fast, he propped his forearms onto the mattress for stability. His forearms caged the sleeping Christina in, their foreheads nearly brushing, every breath shared in the narrow space between them. His heartbeat thundered like a war drum, pounding violently inside his ribcage.
His eyes locked onto her features, eventually landing on her inviting lips. Color had returned to them, soft and full, like they were waiting for a kiss.
His throat bobbed, nerves firing off like sparks. Without thinking, he leaned in, pulled by the gravity of his desire to kiss her.
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But a split second before their mouths met, he snapped out of it, jolting backward to put space between them. His pulse still surged, roaring in his ears like a flood. He had slipped right back to his usual straight face, yet his ears burned crimson. He’d almost made a mistake, and shame made it impossible to gaze at her again.
He loosened his collar with a tug, trying to shake the adrenaline. Turning away, he drew long, steady breaths to regain composure. Once his nerves calmed, he glanced at her slumbering quietly.
After a moment’s pause, Dylan assigned two men to guard her and led the others away.
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