His decision had not come easily. Saba gathered her wits, and her breath, for a small explosion. He sensed it in the air between them. He held up his hand. Her mouth dropped open then snapped closed. Now she was pissed. “Now before you go jumping to conclusions, hear me out.” “Hear you out! You worthless piece of…of…of…” She sputtered to a halt, and Ryder knew if he so much as twitched, she’d probably crack his skull with a piece of pottery. “Saba, listen to me.” He spied the wine bottle, picked it up, and carried it to the bed. Gods, the back of his legs felt tight, as if the muscles had been stretched on a rack then allowed to snap back to their proper length. He uncorked the bottle, took a swig, then handed it to her. She didn’t disappoint him, swilling down several swallows before setting the bottle out of his reach. Ryder eased onto the edge of the bed and held his hand out to her. “Will you hear me out now?” He leaned back onto the pillows with her when she nodded, coaxing her to lay her head on his shoulder, then pulling her closer.
