“Evet, Gabriel Bey,” she answers with more obedience than usual. Hearing her try so hard to speak Turkish almost makes me smile.
“Stop worrying that I’ll throw you out on the street or send you back to Mazur.”
The corner of Lara’s mouth threatens to lift into a smile as relief fills her eyes.
Those damn eyes.
“And I won’t kill you, so stop worrying about that.”
Her eyes are glued to mine, and I see the moment the fear leaves her. It’s as if she exhales it from her body.
Fuck, I should’ve had this talk sooner.
Lastly, I say, “There are no more restrictions. You’re allowed to move freely around the house. Murat will still be around but only as protection for when Emre and I are at work.”
A look of wonder washes over her features. “I’m allowed in the east wing?”
“Yes.” To make sure she understands, I add, “And you can walk around the house alone.”
This time her mouth curves up into a breathtaking smile. “Thank you, Gabriel Bey.”
“Just Gabriel,” I murmur as I return her smile.
It feels like we’ve finally taken a step forward. “How do you feel today?”
“Much better.” She scoots to the edge of the chair. “Can I leave my bedroom tomorrow?”
There’s a twisting emotion in my heart. Having this woman constantly asking for my approval does something to me.
“Yes.”
The intense grateful reactions she has to everything I give her, to everything I allow – it gives me more power than I should have.
I have absolute control over her.
The realization has me staring at Lara until she tilts her head and asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” Out of pure curiosity, I ask, “If I gave you your freedom, what would you do?”
Instantly, her features tighten with concern and confusion. “I…” her tongue darts out to wet her lips, “I don’t want to leave.”
Trying again, I say, “If I gave you all the money you could ever need, and you could do anything you ever wanted to do, where would you go?”
Lara’s breathing starts to grow shallow, panic darkening her eyes again, then she begs, “Please let me stay.”
I reach over and place my hand on top of her clenched ones. “Relax. I’m not telling you to leave. I just want to know if you’d like to have your freedom.”
She shakes her head, her eyes locked with mine and filled with so much emotion it hits me square in the chest. “There’s nowhere I want to go. I want to stay here with Nisa Hanim, Murat Bey, Alya Hanim… and you.” She turns her hands over, and her slender fingers wrap around mine. Then she leans forward and admits, “I’m safe here. It feels like I belong.”
Lifting my other arm, I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck. We’re so close, I can almost taste her desperation on my tongue. Leaning forward, I press my mouth to her forehead, then say, “This is now your home, Lara. You never have to leave.”
Her eyes shimmer as she gives me a thankful look, her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you, Gabriel Bey.”
“Just Gabriel,” I remind her. For some reason, it annoys me when she calls me mister or sir.
When she nods, I realize I’m still holding onto her neck. We’re still only inches apart, and yet, she doesn’t look uncomfortable.
And neither am I.
Three days of caring for this woman, and she’s somehow changed how I saw her. I’m not sure what she is, but she’s definitely not a burden.
She has the purest heart, and it shines through her blue eyes.
I move my hand to her forehead, and when she feels cool with no signs of fever, I smile but add, “Just because you can do whatever you want doesn’t mean I’ll allow you to work yourself to death again. Try to take things slower. Okay?”
“Evet.”
My smile grows, then I ask, “Is Nisa Hanim teaching you Turkish?”
She shakes her head. “I pick up on the words and try to remember them.”
“You don’t have to learn the language,” I tell her, just in case she thought she had to. I settle back in the chair, then ask, “Can you speak Polish?”
“Very little.”
“What was it like growing up in Mazur’s house?”
Lara glances out the window, tension creeping into the lines around her mouth. “It was nothing like here.”
“Did you get to go to school?”
She nods, her eyes still focused on the dark night outside. “Only until I was sixteen.”
“So, you never graduated?”
Shaking her head, she answers, “No.”
This is the longest conversation we’ve had, and I’m in no hurry for it to end. “Would you like to continue with your studies?”
Lara turns her attention to me, then tilts her head. “Go back to school? I’m too old.”
“You can study online.”
I watch as she thinks about it, then she starts to smile. “I’d really like that.”
Again, I find myself smiling at her. “I’ll have Murat get you a laptop so you can study.”