No, not for fun. But …
“Hey. Meant to tell you—you did good in the water.”
“I panicked and nearly drowned.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Only because of you.” In so many ways … because of him. She was here in Saudi, where she had not dreamed of ever coming again, about to be reunited with Atia. Free—at least, so far. But with the way Range handled dropping into the water, commandeering the boat, getting them here … she had every confidence her freedom would happen. As said, because of him.
“Something I should know?” Range asked, frowning at her.
“What?”
“You did that thing again—went quiet. You worrying about something?”
It should not surprise her that he could read her, especially with the way she could read him, but it was … strange. “It is nothing.”
“Does this Zahir use computers?”
Kasra frowned. “I do not—”
“Wondering if they might’ve seen the video from the mosque.”
“Oh no …”
* * *
He had a bad feeling about this. Something was off—Kasra hadn’t been the same since they’d hit the beachhead. She’d ended up ticked at him on the ship, but that seemed to fall away as a greater worry plagued her. As he pulled up to a gray two-story structure that looked like a giant cube with a walled courtyard and one-vehicle garage, he noticed she was holding her hands in a tight fist. And it kinda ticked him off.
“Want me to just go in and get her?”
She startled. “No!” Then waffled. “Zahir … he is very … devout. Strict.”
In other words, all the guy saw was her past. She was the victim—no, thesurvivor. Fighter. She shouldn’t have to prove anything. Rather than doubting or questioning, people should be helping and praising her for enduring the unimaginable.
And he had no idea when his view of her had changed so radically. Maybe it’d been that moment in the tower, looking out at the water. Maybe it’d been that first kiss. Or the liquid fire that poured through his gut seeing her held at gunpoint. Or when he’d nearly said he was falling in love with her.
“I’m so scared,” she whispered, then flinched.
Range reached over and placed his hand on hers. “You’ve got this. You’re kick-butt Kasra.” Did that sound as corny as he thought it did? “And I’ve got your six.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Six?”
He smirked. “Your back. I’ve got your back.”
Eyes puddling, she leaned back against the headrest. In a strange but cool way, her eyes seemed like some of the exotic lakes he’d seen. “Why are you being so nice to me? Helping me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Guess that was what he was doing, but it was also about nailing Hellqvist’s butt to the wall.
“I know you said being with me would be a mistake—”
“Kasra—”
She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I love you.”
Something happened in his gut right then. Startled him. The girl never chose him. It wasn’t supposed to happen here either. She was the madam he was supposed to take down. Bring to justice. “You’re riding adrenaline. Under a lot of stress. Don’t mix-up—”
“No.” Her eyes blazed with meaning. “I’ve never known a man like you. And I know, after this, every man will pale by comparison.”
