The door to the bathroom opened.
Range stood, suddenly realized he had his shirt off and hadn’t finished his workout.
Kasra faltered, her gaze dancing across his chest, then to the deck. Back. Color flushed her cheeks, and he liked that he’d been the cause. “Your … the wound.” She scratched her head. “Is it okay?”
Wound? Oh. He glanced at the stitches in his side. “Yeah. Healing. Hadn’t thought about it.”
“There is a lot on our minds,” she said, moving to her satchel and storing her toiletry pack. “Do you really think the captain—” Her gaze again landed on his chest.
“Yeah. I do.” Reading the situation, her attraction, remembering how very soft her lips were, Range knew he didn’t need to distract them. He put his shirt back on and sat on the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots.
Hair loose and brushed, breath minty, she sat next to him. Which just made him aware—of her thigh touching his, how soft her lips had been, how willing …
He stretched his neck, took longer with tying his boots.
“What are we going to do once we reach the Emirates?”
With a heavy breath, he rested his forearms on his knees, his gaze on the deck. “No idea. Using the docs Zaki made would lead them straight to us.” A hand on his leg, he angled to her. “Renner’s right—we need to keep our heads down.”
Concern danced in her irises. “Should we still go to Atia? I do not want her in danger.”
She was really concerned about the captain’s kid. “Good point.” He scratched the beard, which made it burn and itch. “But I think securing her is a bigger priority.”
She studied him. “Why?” It was a breathy question.
There was something unusual in the way she asked that. “DNA can prove she’s Hellqvist’s kid and that would connect him to Roud if we can get a sample from the mother. Can we?”
Her answer took a hot second. “Maybe.”
Of course she was worried about the little girl should she be located by Hellqvist. “It’d help us take him down.”
She pushed to her feet. Crossed the cabin to the table. Busied herself with a bottled water. “When I sent Atia away, it was to keep her safe. Make sure she could live. That he would not be able to touch or … ruin her.” She tidied the table, but her movements slowed. “Using her against him—it would put her in danger, yes?”
Concern he understood, but this seemed like more. “Possibly.”
She chewed her lower lip.
“Second thoughts?”
“No.” With a groan, she sat sideways in a chair, her back against the wall and ran her hands over her face. “I do not know. I have not seen her since I left her in Saudi. But she is an innocent and does not know the monster who is her father. How she came into existence.” Her eyes glossed. “But there, Atia is safe.”
Which was a good thing. So why did she look ready to cry? Granted, safety was an illusion … “Nobody else knows where she is?”
Kas shrugged. “Only Razam. And Fatina, but they are safe with the chief.” Her eyes held his, and she probably wanted to ask him to confirm that.
“After seeing him at the airstrip … I don’t trust anything or anyone right now.”
“Even the men on this boat?”
“Renner seems okay, but I don’t know them.”
The ship rode a swell, and the chair Kasra sat in started sliding—she yelped.
“Here,” Range said, indicating behind him. “In the berth. Less chance of getting thrown around or hit by something.” He reached out and she took his hand even as the deck canted in the opposite direction.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her words tight.
“Nothing, just the ocean being her normal, temperamental self.” He shrugged as she slipped past him onto the bed. “Besides, reefers are notorious for rolling and pitching. It could get rough.”
