Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 202

202 A Calculated Embrace

202 A Calculated Embrace

His lips curved into a smile. “Are you shy around me, Hazel?”

The city lights played across his features as we moved through the streets. In the semi–darkness, I allowed myself to acknowledge what I’d been denying for weeks–I was attracted to Sebastian Sinclair. Deeply, irresistibly attracted.

“Occasionally,” he admitted with a weak smile. “When absolutely necessary.”

Sebastian’s arm was draped casually over the back of the seat. I reached up to move it, thinking he’d be more comfortable. As my fingers brushed his sleeve, his hand suddenly caught mine.

“About fifteen minutes, Ms. Shaw,” he replied in an equally quiet tone.

He grimaced. “Just a bit dizzy. It’s nothing.”

Sebastian Sinclair had calculated every moment of that embrace–and I had fallen for it completely.

Sebastian stirred slightly, nestling closer. His warm breath caressed my neck, and my pulse jumped in response. Was he really asleep? Or was this calculated intimacy?

The driver’s eyes met mine briefly in the rearview mirror before quickly looking away. wondered what he thought about his boss’s behavior, but his face remained professionally blank.

Suddenly, Sebastian winced, bringing his hand to his temple.

I

“Just let me rest for a moment,” he murmured, his voice soft and vulnerable in a way I’d never heard before. “Please.”

I tried to convince myself this meant nothing. He was tired. I was being kind. That was all. But the racing of my heart told a different story.

I studied his face with concern. The playfulness had vanished, replaced by genuine discomfort. “You should see a doctor.”

I frowned. “That’s not healthy.”

Part of me wished the driver would take a wrong turn, extending our journey through

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the sleeping city. Another part–the practical, self–protective part–knew this closeness was dangerous.

“Sebastian, this is inappropriate,” I whispered, but made no move to pull away.

His eyes held mine, searching for something. Whatever he saw made his smile deepen. “Good night, Hazel.”

The car pulled away from the hotel entrance, leaving Cora waving at the curb. With her gone, the atmosphere in the vehicle shifted. Sebastian moved to the backseat, sliding in beside me with casual grace.

Yet here I was, allowing Sebastian Sinclair to break down my carefully constructed walls with nothing more than a plea for rest.

His fingers moved slightly against my waist, a small, unconscious gesture that sent warmth spreading through me. I found myself wanting to touch his hair, to run my fingers through the dark strands. I resisted the urge, keeping my hands firmly in my lap.

“You work too much,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He didn’t respond immediately. Then, slowly, he stirred against me, his eyes opening with deliberate languor. They met mine with perfect clarity–no trace of sleep’s fog

within them.

“How much further?” I asked the driver softly, not wanting to disturb Sebastian.

“Fine,” I relented. “Just until we reach my apartment.”

And that terrified me more than any of Alistair’s threats ever could.

“You’re blushing,” he observed, his eyes tracking the color spreading across my cheeks.

As the car turned onto my street, I gently touched his shoulder. “Sebastian, we’re

almost there.”

The car slowed as we approached my neighborhood. Soon, this moment would end. Sebastian would lift his head, the spell would break, and we’d return to, our careful dance of ambiguous intentions.

I allowed myself to study his face without the fear of being caught. In sleep–or the appearance of it–the sharp edges of his features softened. Long eyelashes cast

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202 A Calculated Embrace

shadows on his checks. The perpetual hint of calculation that lurked in his eyes was hidden now, making him look younger, almost vulnerable.

As the car continued through the night–draped city, Sebastian’s breathing grew deeper and more regular. Was he actually falling asleep? The thought that he felt comfortable enough to lower his guard with me created a warm flutter in my chest.

“Finally alone,” he murmured, his voice low enough that the driver couldn’t hear.

Only when I reached my front door did I allow myself to look back. The car remained at the curb, Sebastian’s silhouette visible through the window.

“It’s hard not to notice when you’re constantly in the news,” I deflected. “Opening new tech divisions, attending charity galas, negotiating international deals. Do you ever sleep?”

“What are you-” I started.

“Feel better?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Sebastian chuckled, the rich sound washing over me. “If you say so.”

“You make an excellent pillow,” he said softly.

## Hazel’s POV

With Sebastian, I could never be sure where the strategy ended and genuine feeling began. That uncertainty should have scared me. After Alistair’s betrayal, I’d promised myself I’d never again be vulnerable to a man’s manipulations.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Much better. Thank you.”

“No need,” Sebastian sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. “I just need rest.”

I turned toward the window. “It’s warm in here.”

Heat rushed to my face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

As the car stopped in front of my building, Sebastian straightened but didn’t move away. His arm remained around my shoulders, his body still close enough that I could feel the heat of him through my dress.

“I’m just tired, Hazel,” he said quietly. “Nothing inappropriate about leaning on a friend when you’re exhausted.”

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202 A Calculated Embrace

He hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Happy to be of service,” I replied dryly, though my voice lacked conviction.

“Moving back here. The front seat was perfectly fine.”

His eyes found mine, surprise evident in them. “You’ve been paying attention to my

schedule?”

I froze, caught between pushing him away and yielding to his request. His body was warm against mine, his cologne enveloping me in a subtle, masculine scent. The steady beat of his heart pulsed against my ear.

Sebastian’s eyelids fluttered, though his breathing remained deep. Was he dreaming? Or was he, like me, simply savoring this moment of connection?

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