Page 174 of Sage Haven
Reich lingered at the doorway, his expression softer now. Lighter.
Whatever weight had been pressing on him earlier had shifted. If only slightly.
I offered a small smile, slipping a bookmark between the pages before turning my attention to him.
He stepped into the room, unbuttoning his shirt with a slow, deliberate ease.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said smoothly.
“I don’t mind.” My voice barely above a whisper.
His lips curled in that effortlessly intoxicating smirk.
My gaze flickered to the nightstand. Multiple phones lay there, sleek screens catching the dim light.
I hadn’t noticed them before.
“That’s one of my favorites,” Reich said, nodding toward the book in my hands.
Something in his voice told me he’d been watching me longer than I realized.
I shifted, studying him. “It’s inspiring,” I murmured. “How he risked himself to save others. Strangers.”
Reich lowered his head slightly, the bedside lamp casting sharp shadows across his features. Then, without another word, he climbed into bed beside me.
“Is that why you helped me?”
His gaze met mine—dark, unreadable.
For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer.
But then, his voice came. Low. Certain.
“I like helping people.”
I swallowed, attempting to look away, but his fingers caught my chin, gently yet firmly guiding my gaze back to his.
Then, in a voice edged with something deeper—something almost possessive—he murmured, “But I wanted to save you.”
His hand traced the curve of my body, slow, deliberate, as if committing every dip and rise to memory. There was something reverent in the way he touched me—like a man worshipping at the altar of his own undoing.
Heat coiled low in my stomach, pooling deep, my pulse a betraying rhythm against the hush of the room.
Reich hovered close, his breath feathering over my lips, thick with unspoken promise. I could almost taste the words he hadn’t yet said, could feel them between us, suspended in the charged air.
Instead, I exhaled against his mouth, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
“I’m going to put this book away. I’ll be right back.”
His brows pulled together, curiosity flickering in his gaze as he watched me slip from his hold.
I turned away, feeling the weight of his stare like a touch I couldn’t shake.
The trip to the library was quick, but anticipation curled in my stomach like a living thing.
By the time I returned, the air had shifted.
It was thick now. Unforgiving.
