Zayn left the bedroom with the rigid posture of a man running from something he had no name for, something far more dangerous than any business rival, any corporate enemy, any scandal that had ever threatened his empire.
He didn’t even allow himself a backward glance toward the closed bathroom door. He knew—God, he knew—that if he looked again, if he saw even a fraction of her soft, relaxed body in that water, he would not have found the strength to walk away a second time.
So he didn’t trust himself.
Not tonight.
Not after what he’d felt.
And so, for the first time since he brought her to this island, he chose to sleep in the guest wing.
He tossed a pillow onto the guest bed with more force than necessary, cursing under his breath. The room was beautiful, spacious, decorated in a m
