With a huff, he stepped up behind her. His chest pressed into her shoulders as his right arm slid around into her periphery, pointing toward the city. His cheek nearly against hers, he repositioned her.
Allah, forgive her, but awareness flared through her. His smell. His presence. His strength—
“There.” His chest rumbled when he spoke, a deep sound that trilled against her spine.
Forcing herself to focus, to prove she had a brain in her head, she blinked. Looked across the field. Saw buildings, stars, clouds… No, not clouds. “Smoke.”
Thick and gray, a column rose in the distance.
“That’sthe compound.”
She drew in a breath, looked to the side where he remained close. So very close. “How … do you know?” Beautiful the way the moonlight caught his pale eyes and danced in them.
“You doubt me?”
She angled more toward him. “No, I—”
Disapproval sharp in his gaze, he turned and ducked back inside.
Did he think she cared about his approval?
Kasra wilted. Of course she did, though she could not fathom why. He was arrogant, hostile, and so very …American. Already made that mistake once in her life and she would not repeat it. Yet, she needed him as an ally.
Or … what if she just started … walking. Would he notice? Care? Her gaze slid to the crumbling structure, probing the gaps and holes. Could he see her? Why was she considering this? But then a shift of shadow stabbed her belly with fright—he was there, positioned to see through a narrow gap between the canvas over the door and the stone jamb. Watching her.
Of course he was. She turned back, hating that he did not trust her. Hating that he was so completely disgusted by her.
Why? Why did it matter? He was American. Did not know her.
Impulse twitched to start the journey. Reason and honor held her in place. After all, she had given her word in exchange for the safety of Raz and the girls.
He thinks you void of honor.
She moved a few paces farther away, hugging herself against the wind. Testing him. Wondering—
“Inside,” came his low growl.
His tone made her want to disregard his instructions. But like it or not, her life was in his hands. Not giving him the pleasure of her gaze, she lifted her chin. “Are you afraid I will run?”
“If you think you’re safer with a goat farmer, have at it.”
Goat farmer? What …? She scanned the area and only then noticed a tall, lanky shepherd prodding five or six goats down a dirt road.
Her selfish frustration with this man made her make a terrible mistake. Should the goat herder notice them, he could very possibly report them.How very much I am out of my depth here.Give her a house with a dozen women and she could manage. This, however …
Every time she thought it could not get worse … it had. Why had she thoughtanythingwould go right for her?
At least Allah had seen fit to look after the other girls. Likely he thought to save them from her ineptitude. She had done all she could, and in the end, it had not been enough.
Done with the nippy wind, she went inside and stopped short. A nylon rope slung from wall-to-wall with a green canvas draped over it, forming a tent-like shelter.
“Grab some shut-eye,” Rage instructed, indicating to the triangle-shaped tube. “We head out before dawn.”
“To where?” There did not seem enough room for two in there.
“North.”
Hope leapt anew. “Toward the others?”
