Chapter 50

[SARA.]

The sheets up to her chest, Sara's eyes stayed with him at the edge of the bed, his back stooped over a blade he was carefully running through an oiled cloth.

The katana was his favorite possession, the pretty but deadly-looking sword that gave her shivers each time she stared at it.

She sighed, curling farther into the bed, darting her eyes to the wall. He had been quiet and cranky recently; she wondered what he was thinking. He usually wasn't that outspoken, but lately, she found herself locked with him in the four corners of his apartment.

No, she wasn't complaining. She wanted to be close, but— she shut her eyes, trying to catch some sleep. But maybe not like this.

And it all began when he returned from Italy, demanding everyone vacate the club except her. Then he looked quite radiant, his palm cupping her face, kissing her hard before he jogged to have a shower.

There were moments of intimacy that wouldn't be called that in a usual sense but for someone like Ruslan, that