Billionaire's Match (by Tangy Candy) novel Chapter 1189

"Mr. Hunt, can't sleep?"

Anna's voice came from behind him, breaking Nick's train of thought. He drew his gaze back.

"No." Nick nodded lightly. His brow was calm, and in the moonlight, his face still looked a little pale.

Anna brought over a blanket, meaning to drape it over his shoulders, but he took it from her hands first. "Why are you still up this late, Dr. Reid?"

"I couldn't sleep. I came out to look around and found you instead." She smiled, set down the small portable stove she'd carried out, and sat beside him.

Their quarters in the mountains were simple, but stepping outside meant an unobstructed view of the peaks and sky. The climate here suited them well; the temperature swung wide between morning and night, but with the new year approaching, it still wasn't truly cold.

Nick's mouth curved slightly, but he said nothing.

"Something on your mind?" Anna asked.

"I was just thinking the scenery here beats the city." Nick tilted his head back. "Too bad I don't have a camera. I could have captured it."

"I wouldn't have guessed you had a hobby like that, Mr. Hunt." Anna laughed softly. Nick didn't turn to look at her, but her eyes never left the side of his face.

Even sick and worn thin, Nick was still striking, handsome enough to stop a person's breath. Under the moonlight, he looked like something out of a painting, otherworldly.

"I'm just an ordinary person," Nick said evenly. "Ordinary people can have all kinds of hobbies."

"No, Mr. Hunt... you're anything but ordinary." Anna's voice dropped, and something in her chest fluttered before she could stop it.

"It's late. You should turn in, Dr. Reid."

Nick seemed not to have heard her at all. He rose slowly and handed the blanket back to her.

"Mr. Hunt." Anna was startled and called out to stop him.

It would only drag the people around him into prolonged torment as well.

What Anna was offering him was another kind of ending, one that came sooner if the treatment failed.

Maybe none of the choices a person made in their final hour were wise ones. But at least he'd followed his own heart and picked the one that suited him best.

Anna lingered outside a while longer by herself. When she finally returned to her room, she found her father, Cyrus Reid, sitting inside.

"Dad... what are you..."

"Tell me honestly. Do you like that guy?"

Cyrus wore rough cotton clothes. He was just past sixty, his hair gone completely white, but his face and body still looked young, as if he'd aged over a decade slower than his years.