On the Ruins of His Regret I Soar novel Chapter 199

Jessica fell silent. She wasn’t some naive girl with no experience in love. She had been in love, been married, and had a child. She understood the subtleties between men and women. She could see what was in George’s heart.

For him to repeatedly save her from disaster—to claim he had no romantic feelings for her whatsoever would be a lie she couldn’t believe. There was no such thing as a purely platonic friendship between a man and a woman.

But Jessica knew, with a certainty that settled heavily in her chest, that she couldn’t give him the response he wanted. She had just crawled out of one swamp; she wasn’t ready to step into another, not knowing if it would be better or worse.

She sighed inwardly.

“Can you get me a glass of water?” George’s voice, low and raspy, broke the silence.

Jessica snapped back to the present and nodded quickly. She brought the water over and handed it to him. He reached for it with his injured arm.

The moment he lifted it, he let out a soft grunt of pain.

“Don’t move it,” Jessica said, quickly pulling the glass back. “Here, I’ll hold it for you.”

She held the glass to his lips. George’s sharp mouth moved to drink, his eyes turning to study her serious expression. She was just helping him drink water; her face betrayed no other emotion. He took a couple of sips.

“That’s enough, thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, turning to put the glass down.

In that instant, his other hand closed around hers.

Jessica looked down in disbelief, her slender fingers enveloped by his long ones. The calluses on his thumb grazed her skin, a rough but firm touch. He must be a bodyguard, she thought, to have such calloused hands.

Jessica didn’t answer.

“Consider me,” he repeated. “Please?”

Still, she was silent. He held her hand, not tightly, but not letting go either.

Jessica took a shaky breath. “George, let’s just see what happens. My life is a complete mess right now. I want to build a business with Rebecca. I’ll think about personal things later.”

His voice held a hint of a plea, almost like a pout. “When you do think about it, will you consider me first? Please?”

It was the third time he had asked. He was determined to get an answer. Her evasiveness wasn’t working anymore.