His piercing dark eyes flicked to her second floor and locked with hers through the window, sending a shiver down her spine.
She met his gaze with a tilted head and raised brows.
He was pushing the envelope and about to get both of them in trouble.
After a beat, he wrenched his eyes away, moving toward the front door with purposeful strides.
Saba hesitated, unsure whether to confront or ignore his presence.
Besides, the Akkadian code stated that a married woman could not receive a single man in her home late at night unless her husband were present.
Still, a righteous stubbornness came over her.
Not being a strict acolyte of her order’s old-fashioned tenets, and with a stab of rebelliousness, she made her way downstairs.
She was dressed in silk pajamas and drew the edges of the robe she wore over them close as she approached the entrance.
The cold marble floor chilled her bare feet as she cracked the door open.
‘My apologies for the unexpected visit,’ Zolan said, smooth like dark chocolate.
Saba’s muscles tensed, a flicker of apprehension dancing along her spine.
‘Zolan. Do you seek my husband?’
He smirked again. ‘Nada, I do not, unless I want my throat ripped apart.’
She shook her head, confused. ‘So why are you here?’
‘To speak with you. I won’t hurt you. You of all people should know that.’
Saba studied him then with a sigh, stepped back to let him in.
He strode in and before she had a chance to press him for more answers, he gestured toward the grand drawing room.
‘May we speak in there?’ he asked, his tone courteous but tinged with urgency.
She hung back, torn between her curiosity and a nagging sense of caution. But something in the way he held himself, the quiet intensity in his eyes, made her nod in acquiescence.
She led the way into the opulent room, sensing his gaze.
Inside, she indicated to the drinks cabinet, but he shook his head and declined.
Zolan took a step closer, his manliness and presence commanding. ‘I apologize for the unexpected visit, but it was the only time I thought I’d get you alone.’
She tilted her head, giving him a disbelieving look. ‘How do you know Mak is not here?’
‘I’ve been watching your home for a few hours now. I observed his departure. Then his strong man’s rather hasty one. Is all alright?’
‘What’s not acceptable is your behavior,’ Saba clipped.
Zolan’s lips quirked in a half-smile at her remark, but his eyes remained grave. ‘I assure you,Šarim, my intentions are far from nefarious,’ he said, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. ‘I am your kin, after all.’
‘My secret kin,’ she snapped.
‘True, and I hate to witness my family treated with disdain like Mak did to you at the wedding.’
‘How could you tell?’ she murmured.
