Oh, Allah. I like him. He is such a good man … Though he spews his rage, I see beneath it. As if I know him, understand him.
She closed her eyes, let herself live the fantasy that his fingers actually threaded with hers. That he wanted her close, wanted her touch.
It would never happen. To a man like him, she was filth. Were he awake, he would throw off her touch. Yell at her.
But … what if he saw her …? Therealher … the one buried beneath years of … Roud? What if …
She imagined his touch. His kiss … He would be ardent, but gentle. Passionate yet not demanding like—
No. That could never happen. It was a physical impossibility with the way he recoiled from her, snarled at her … curled his lip.
Kasra drew her hand back and rested it on her hip to keep it elevated. She should sleep but there were … others there, in her dreams. Others from her past. And she did not want to let them into her thoughts. To violate her.
Needing a distraction and confident he slept, she reached into the satchel and drew out the phone Gabina had given her. Shielding the light from him, she powered it up and opened it. Saw a text from her friend, asking how she was.
I am here. Things went badly. Pray Allah will help us.
A moment later, a text came in and she found comfort that her friend was there, thinking of her, talking to her across the distance. She was not alone.Men took Coman, but he is home now. They asked where you are. He did not tell them. Be safe.
How her heart hurt that her friend had trouble because of her. And she imagined they had released him in the hopes he would lead them to Kasra.I am sorry.
Is Mr. Blue Eyes being nice to you?
A leopard cannot change his spots. But at least I am alive.
I’nsh Allah.
“No.”
The half grumble, half groan startled her. She shoved the phone back into her satchel and looked up at him, saw him rotating his head. A grunt. Another “no.” More dreams. Tentatively, she slid her hand back over to him. Touched his arm.
Another grunt. Blond brows knotted. His bicep twitched. He was still immersed in whatever was distressing him. But if he called out …
She slid her hand over his abdomen, to where he held the gun. “It’s okay …” she whispered.
Though it made no sense, he again calmed. Heart rate slowed. His pursed lips slackened, parting as he slipped free of whatever tormented him. What did torment someone like him? He had a family—several siblings, talked about his mom.
“Augh,” he suddenly grunted. His hand clamped onto hers and he jerked her toward him.
Kasra cried out, her wounds pinching sharply.
Range’s eyes struck hers. “What’re you doing?” Throat hoarse, he glowered. “I help and protect you, and you go for my gun?”
“What?” She withdrew. “No! I—you were dreaming.Loud. I was just …” The pain in her wound made tears prick. It felt warm now. She held the spot and tried to shift away, but cracked her head on the cave ceiling.
Accusation speared his expression as he hiked himself upright, something she could not do for the way the cave sloped. “I would be a fool with my arm injured to even try to overtake you.”
“As if you could.”
Defiance flashed through her. “Maybe you should rethink sleeping so close to me and so deeply next time.”
Blue eyes met hers, probing that threat she had just thrown out. “You really do not want me as your enemy.”
“I think we are entirely past that.” Heart thundering, she regretted the words as soon as they stung her lips. She did not think of him as an enemy, but that was how he saw her. Doubtful it could ever be any other way.
“Your survival depends on me, so I’d be careful—”
“I don’t need your advice! I’ve survived men like you for the last ten years.” She had learned to be what men needed, what they wanted—the only way to survive. She might not have a soul left, but she was alive.
