Chapter 167
Rowan's POV
The apartment was silent when I returned just past one in the morning, the kind of silence that pressed against my eardrums and made every small sound feel amplified. I shrugged off my suit jacket in the foyer, loosening my tie as I moved through the darkened hallway. I'd expected to find Lena bent over her laptop, that familiar crease between her brows as she worked through case files with the same relentless focus she brought to everything.
But the study door stood ajar, the room beyond it dark.
I should have turned toward the guest room. Instead, my feet carried me in the opposite direction, down the hall toward her bedroom.
The door was closed. My hand hovered over the handle, and I forced myself to acknowledge what I was about to do—something I'd never done in two years of marriage. I'd never invaded her private space like this, never crossed that invisible line we'd both maintained with such careful precision. During our contract marriage, I'd kept my distance, respected her autonomy to the point of indifference. Her bedroom had been as foreign to me as her inner thoughts.
The handle turned silently beneath my palm. The door opened with only the faintest whisper of hinges, and I slipped inside, closing it behind me with the same cautious quiet.
Lena lay on her side, one hand tucked beneath her pillow, her breathing deep and even. The tension that usually tightened her shoulders had melted away in sleep, leaving her face soft and unguarded in a way I'd never seen during waking hours.
I moved closer, my footsteps soundless on the thick rug, until I stood beside the bed. Then I did something I'd never allowed myself before—I crouched down, bringing myself level with her sleeping face.
From this angle, I could see the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the exhaustion that even a full night's sleep couldn't quite erase.
My chest tightened as I remembered yesterday—the way she'd frozen when I'd trapped her against that wall, her breath coming quick and shallow, her pupils dilating even as she'd tried to maintain that cool, dismissive tone.
She hadn't been afraid. She'd been panicking because she'd felt something, something she was desperately trying to deny.
My hand lifted of its own accord. I traced the line of her temple with my fingertips, barely making contact, then followed the curve of her cheek down to her jaw. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and I felt that familiar tightness in my chest intensify into something almost painful.
How many times had we shared a bed during our marriage? How many nights had I fallen asleep beside her without really seeing her, without wondering if she was comfortable, if she was happy, if she felt safe? I'd been so focused on maintaining the professional distance our contract required that I'd never noticed the small things—the way she always waited for me to fall asleep first, or how she'd lie perfectly still on her side of the bed as if afraid to disturb me.
I never knew when she fell asleep, I thought, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. Never cared enough to find out.
The realization sat heavy in my stomach. I thought back to yesterday in the hallway, to the way her body had responded even as her words pushed me away. The rapid pulse at her throat, the way her hands had clenched at her sides instead of shoving me back, the brief moment when her gaze had dropped to my mouth before she'd caught herself.
She still cared. She was just too proud—or too hurt—to admit it.
A small, dangerous smile tugged at my lips. Good. That meant I still had a chance. It meant the wall she'd built between us wasn't impenetrable, just carefully maintained.
I let my hand fall away, though my fingers still tingled with the memory of her warmth. Standing slowly, I looked down at her one last time, memorizing the peaceful expression on her face, the way her hair spilled across the pillow in dark waves.
This time, I won't let you go, I promised silently. This time, I'll make sure you know I see you.
I leaned down, close enough that my breath stirred the fine hairs at her temple, and whispered words she couldn't hear: "Sleep well, Lena. I'm here."
Then I straightened and moved toward the door, leaving it slightly ajar behind me—just in case she woke and needed something in the night.
---
Morning came too quickly. I was showered, dressed, and standing in the foyer by six forty-five, my briefcase in hand and a carefully worded note already written for Lena. David was waiting outside when I opened the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.
"Good morning, sir," he said quietly, falling into step beside me as I moved toward the elevator.
"Protect Lena if she go out today," I said without preamble, keeping my voice low even though we were alone in the hallway.
David's expression didn't change. "Understood. I'll maintain distance. She won't know we're there."
I jabbed the elevator call button harder than necessary. "Yesterday—when she went to Clarke's apartment. Anything unusual?"
"No, sir. She spent approximately two hours inside, primarily visiting Ms. Clarke. Her emotional state appeared stable when she left."
The elevator doors slid open. I stepped inside, and David followed, pressing the button for the parking garage.
"If she goes somewhere more remote," I said, watching the floor numbers descend, "I want additional personnel. Discreet, but thorough."
"I'll coordinate with Jack if needed," David confirmed. "We'll be shadows. Nothing more."
I pulled a folded piece of paper from my breast pocket and handed it to him. "If she asks about me, tell her I'm handling Reynolds Industries' European expansion. There's a conference call scheduled for this afternoon that should keep me occupied."
David pocketed the note with a slight nod. "And if she insists on going somewhere without security?"
My jaw tightened. "Then you follow anyway. Just make sure she doesn't catch you."
"Yes, sir."
I slid into the driver's seat. As I pulled out of the garage and into the gray morning light, I couldn't shake the image of Lena asleep in her bed, peaceful and vulnerable in a way she'd never allow herself to be while awake.