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He stood still, afraid to move in the deafening silence. He could hear her heart beating within her chest. He wondered if she could hear the racing of his own heart.

"It must have been the wind." Miranda's words broke the quiet.

The disappointment he heard in her voice prompted him to step forward. He stopped himself before he reached the bed and took her in his arms. It would do no good to frighten her to death. Calling back his concentration, which had scattered to the four winds upon hearing his name, he whispered a comfort prayer. He completed it with an urgent command for her to sleep.

The sun's rays now crested the treetops. He needed to be gone. But still he didn't move. He waited until Miranda slid back down in the bed and her breathing relaxed before he allowed his desire to overcome his common sense.

He approached her slumbering body. The purity of her face, still marred by a score of tear-tracks, looked beautiful beyond belief. Although he felt the rays of the sun heat his skin, he had one more thing to do: a safety prayer to keep Gabriella out along with any henchmen she might send to do her dirty work.

That done, Zacke leaned down and brushed her lips with his own. The sweetness pulling at him threatened to drop him to his knees. He fought the urge to lie at her side. It would mean his death--but to die in Miranda's arms would be worth the agony.