Emme looked at her tray. “No, thank you. This is perfect.”
Fatima bowed her head and left. Jordan remained standing, the same strange look on his face. Why were his eyes pinchy?
“Sit.” She pointed her fork at the chair. “You’re making me nervous.”
He dragged the chair closer to the bed and propped one foot over the other knee.
“Finish what you were saying,” she said around a piece of pineapple.
“Right. Your dad and Jared decided you should recuperate here for a couple of weeks before traveling back to the States.”
“Why?
He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “The media got wind of your rescue and has been spinning up a storm. They’re camped out at your parents’ and brother’s houses. It was expected. This way you can heal and give the media time to get distracted with the next celebrity divorce.”
She nodded. “Are my parents coming here?”
“No,” he said, slowly. He took a small breath. “I’m staying with you until it’s time to go back.”
Swallowing hard around the lump that formed in her throat, she looked at the tray. “Can I call them?” She hated that her voice was small, but she wanted her mom and dad.
He leaned forward and put his hand on her leg. “Hey. Of course, as soon as you’re finished eating. Jared has a VTC set up, so you can see and talk to them. Okay?”
She nodded. “How long have we been here?” She missed the comforting weight of his hand when he leaned back in the chair.
“We landed early this morning. Why aren’t you eating your omelet?”
Her cheeks warmed and she turned the fork in her fingers. “I can’t cut it without making a mess, so I’m waiting until you’re gone.”
He reached over and took the fork from her. She watched his long fingers as they maneuvered the fork, cutting the omelet into bite-sized pieces. She’d always had a thing for hands. What would they feel like on her skin?
Holy cow, she needed to get a grip. She was an invalid, for crying out loud. A dirty one at that. Not that he would ever look at her as anything more than Doug’s little sister anyway.
He handed her the fork.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He sat back and propped his foot up again.
She shoveled some egg onto her fork, but paused with it halfway to her mouth. “How are you here? I thought you were still in the Army.” The egg fell off the fork. Frick.
“I am.”
Managing to get some egg in her mouth, she made a ‘continue’ motion with the fork.
“Jared Westin has a lot of connections and he pulled some strings to get me on the mission.”
“But why you?”
He ran his hand over his head. Did he always do that when he was uncomfortable with something? “Your mom wanted someone you’d know when you were rescued.”
That sounded exactly like her mom. All of a sudden her appetite was gone and she set her fork down. “I’ve had enough. Can we call them now?”
“Of course. Let me go get the laptop.” He was halfway across the room before he returned to the bed. “Are you really finished eating, or do you just want to talk to your parents.”
She stared at her half-eaten food. “I’m done.”
He picked up the tray and left the room, leaving the door open behind him. The murmur of deep male voices reached her, but she couldn’t see who was talking.
