Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners 3)

Crossing my arms over my chest, my eyes settle on her sleeping face. She manages to rest for an hour before a coughing fit wakes her. I quickly get up and help her to sit so she can breathe easier.

Lara seems dazed, and as she leans against me, she makes a whimpering sound that tears right through the middle of my heart. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her and hold her while she struggles through the painful coughs.

Long after she’s fallen asleep again, I lay her back onto the pillows and move to the armchair to try and get some sleep myself.

I only manage to get thirty minutes, here and there, woken by Lara coughing up a lung throughout the night. By the time Nisa comes into the room, I’m dead on my feet.

“What happened?” Nisa asks, her eyes wide between a sleeping Lara and me.

“She’s sick. I think it’s the flu. It’s your turn to watch over her.” I walk to the door then add, “She had Tylenol and the cough mixture two hours ago. The eucalyptus oil in boiling water helps to open her chest.”

As I walk out of the room, I hear Nisa exclaiming, “Allah Allah, my poor baby.”

An eyebrow lifts as I head down the hallway because it’s clear Nisa’s practically adopted Lara as her own.

Chapter 19

Lara

Waking up, it’s to find Gabriel asleep in one of the armchairs for the third morning in a row. He has his feet propped up on the side of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest.

I stare at my boss as the last sleep clears from my head.

During the days, Nisa and Murat kept checking in on me, and at night Gabriel’s been taking over.

As if they were all worried I’d die if they left me alone.

Even Alya Hanim visited me, telling me about the flowers she wants to plant and what TV show she’s currently watching.

My chest fills with warmth, and I’m overcome with emotion. Especially because Gabriel has been so kind to me. Not once did he snap at me, and he even held me whenever I coughed so severely I had no strength left in my body.

It felt good being able to lean against him.

It felt good having his arms around me.

My eyes drift over his mussed hair and the dark scruff on his jaw. His arms look strong, the lines of muscles visible now that he’s not wearing a suit but a t-shirt. The fabric stretched tightly over his chest.

Curiosity trickles into my heart, along with the gratefulness I feel toward this man who cared for me instead of letting me die.

I’ve never felt any kind of interest toward a man until now.

But Gabriel’s my boss, and I’m just a maid in his house.

I shove the curiosity deep down, and it’s just in time because Gabriel’s eyes open, and he catches me staring at him.

I quickly sit up and self-consciously pat a hand over my wild bed hair.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice deep and hoarse with sleep.

There’s a burst of heat in my stomach, and I quickly press a hand to my midsection to stop the sensation. “Much better. I can work today.”

I’m not going to lie, I will miss all the attention. There were moments it felt like I was dying, but it felt amazing having everyone caring for me.

It felt like I was a part of a family.

“You’ll return to work when I say so,” he mutters as he stands up. Picking up the thermometer, he checks my temperature. When he reads the result, a smile forms around his full lips that has me gaping at him like a fish out of water.

“No fever,” he praises me, making my own mouth lift into a smile, then he gives me a look of warning. “You’ll only return to work on Monday.”

That’s another four days!

Not wanting to upset Gabriel in any way, especially now that things are so good, I nod. “Okay.”

What am I going to do in bed for four days?

I watch as Gabriel walks to the door, still not used to seeing him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looks different from when he’s dressed in a suit. He’s more approachable and not cold like when he’s the head of the Turkish mafia.

Right before he pulls the door shut behind him, he glances at me again, and my stomach does a weird flip-flop.

It’s just gratitude.

Not long after Gabriel has left, the door opens again, and Nisa comes in. “Gabriel Bey says you’re much better today,” she beams as if it’s the happiest news she’s ever heard.

“Evet,” I answer, trying to use more Turkish words.

“Good. I hope it means your appetite has returned. You’re losing all the weight you gained.”

My stomach grumbles, and I slap my hand over it.

Nisa lets out a chuckle while she fluffs out a pillow. “I’ll prepare breakfast and bring a tray up to you.”