The clock chimed 10 the minute he walked in through the doors, his strides long and confident, even though he’d just had one of the longest days of his life. And it had nothing to do with work at the office. He’d found himself reaching for his phone more times than he could count, his fingers folding to tap on the name he had been avoiding for the past three days. Each time that happened, he would take a deep breath and push the phone far away from him, only to be back at the point where he started.
It was one of the hardest things for Zayn Graham to do, or at least, had become so in the last couple of days. A war would be a perfect term to describe what went on in his mind the torment he had been subjected to just because he couldn’t keep his thoughts free from her. She plagued every part of his being, from his waking moment to the last thing he saw before his eyes fell close at night. And the worst thing was that Zayn wanted more of it. He had to be insane at that point.
The silence of the villa hummed peacefully, and Zayn asked himself why he was back in the same place he hadn’t slept in since he returned from Hong Kong. Because he was not past the point of denying that every one of his actions revolved around her, Zayn tried to rationalize it in his head. He told himself that he was only going to ensure she was fine, before going back into the night and making his way to his mansion. It was only going to take a few minutes just a quick peep.
The floorboards didn’t give him away as he went up the stairs, his pulse racing dramatically. Zayn would have chuckled out loud if it wasn’t late at night and if he wasn’t trying to rouse the whole house. His feet came to a halt in front of her room, and his hands poised above the door, knocking gingerly. He tried again when he heard nothing, this time putting more strength behind his fist.
Nothing.
The doorknob gave way under his twist and at once, Zayn was thrown into the distinct scent of the room, the strong vanilla in every corner and sphere. He looked towards the bed in the dark, the only light coming from the window through the glow of the moon. It was empty, the sheets still perfectly made as it was before her trip. But her suitcase was by the foot of the bed, so Zayn could dispel the first thought that she had returned to her cottage.
But then, he heard it, a soft voice coming from the bathroom. He found it difficult to move, knowing what had happened the last time he was in there, how hard it had been. “Rina?” His deep-set voice sounded strange in the silence, disrupting the initial calm. But it snapped into place almost immediately, with no one responding to his call.
Not wanting to go back out through the door, Zayn took a deep breath and walked towards the adjoining bathroom. It was ludicrous that the great Zayn Graham could close high mergers in the blink of an eye, and sit in the gathering of well-to-do individuals, even higher than he was, without feeling out of place. Yet, for some reason, this frightened him having to walk into the bathroom knowing Rina was in there.
He let out another shaky breath and tried to call her name again, his voice returning to him in an echo. Zayn pushed the door slowly and moved in, the glow from the scented candles giving him enough illumination not to trip over anything. The music was louder in there, and the voice of the auto singer was soft and soothing. His eyes fell on Rina, who was fast asleep in the tub, her head craned in an awkward position that it was hardly possible she wouldn’t wake without a neck ache.
Zayn squatted in front of the tub, his hand reaching out like it had a mind of its own. He pushed a strand of errant strands from her face to the back of her ear, his fingers lingering longer than they should. Fatigue lines were etched on her features, and Zayn was immediately filled with an instant desire to ease it off, to make life a whole lot easier for her. But Rina was stubborn. There was no way she was going to let him do that.
She must not have fallen asleep long ago, as the water was still warm and the suds covered her body. Still, Zayn could see the ghost of a well-nurtured skin, and as if to prove a point to himself, he looked away sharply and got off the ground, moving around the space. First, he turned off the music, then the scented candles before walking back to the tub to get her out of the water.
Rina muttered something indecipherable as he grabbed a towel from its holder with one hand, strolling into the bedroom. She stirred in his arms, with her fingers hooking into his shirt as he tried to get her down as if passing a statement that she wasn’t letting him go. Her lips moved and her lashes fluttered. Zayn froze as at that moment, he was certain her eyes would fall open. He realized that he had no reason to be in her room that night, and Rina was going to know what was happening.
But she didn’t open her eyes, causing Zayn to release a breath he’d had no idea he was holding. Lowering her onto the sheets as slowly as possible, he tried not to pay attention to the swell of her breasts, made more apparent by the steady rise and fall in her chest. He forbade himself from looking any lower, yet he found his eyes straying.
“Zayn,” he muttered to himself as he stared at the towel in his hands and then back at her. “You’ve got to do better.”