After showeringand changing into the provided overalls, Kasra frowned at herself in the old, dingy mirror in the bathroom. The bruises were yellowing, most of the swelling had gone down, but she still looked terrible. Tired. Dark circles beneath her eyes that had nothing to do with the imam’s ordered beating. It had not been the first time she had endured a man’s fury. Likely not the last.
Men just did not understand. Nobody did. And it made her doubt herself all over again. Could she have escaped before a week ago? Sure. And if she had been caught, more marks would have been burned into her back. Into her mind. Or he would have killed Fatina. Or one of the younger girls.
“I do take Kasra Jazani as my wife.”
Her stomach swam, remembering Range’s words. His resolute response and his fierce visage. So angry. Did this mean she was now his wife? Legally?
It did not matter, since it was not what he really wanted. Since they had fled, he had been cold, withdrawn. What few words he had spoken were sharp and direct. Nothing less, nothing more. No conversation, no smiles. Because of the truth: he was trapped.
She must assure him that she would not hold him to the coerced vows.
He would leave—have the marriage annulled. She shoved aside how that thought hurt. The point was, at least she was out of Afghanistan and—Allah willing—soon out of Pakistan. Freedom would be hers. The road ahead, eking out a life, would be hard. Difficult. But she had carved out a semblance of a life once before in the midst of darkness, she could do it again.
Yet … what would it be like to stay with him? What if he—by some miracle—said he was not leaving her? What if marriage vows were as sacred to him as they were to her? She had begged him not to agree to the imam’s demand. He deserved a beautiful wife, untainted.Not baggage like me.
Even when he left, she would have something she never dreamed: the memory of his kiss. Not the hungry, demanding kind of most men. But an ardent, passionate one that had somehow been both tender and left her wanting more. His breath against her cheek. His hand slipping around her waist …
Thud! Thud!
She started at a knock. Drew up straight.
“Kasra?”
At Range’s voice her heart jostled into a slower rhythm. “Yes?”
“Gear’s here. And food.”
Their bags. She glanced once more at her reflection, wished she’d had make-up to hide the bruises at little, but maybe it would be easier this way. The bruises would help him walk away. Tentatively, she stepped out.
His back to her, he was doing something at the table.
She saw her bag on the bed and went to it. Dug in it and considered putting on a hijab, feeling a little underdressed—and in her periphery noticed his gear on the floor with a blanket and pillow. He intended to sleep there …?
“Food’s probably sludge like all galley food,” he said, coming round—and stopped short. His gaze slid over her from head to toe, then back up, blue eyes pinning her. He swung back to the food. Ran a hand down the back of his neck. “It … um … looks like mush.” He huffed a laugh. “Maybe they should let you cook for us next time.”
Had she missed a snap or zipper? Kasra glanced at the uniform, checked the closures—all done. “It cannot be that bad.”
He folded himself into one of the chairs. “Suggest we chow down quickly.”
“Are we not going to stay on the ship?” She took the seat opposite him and considered the food. Wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”
Range smirked. “Told you,” he said with a shrug. “We’ll be aboard for a couple of days, but who knows what could happen. If anyone saw us sneak on, authorities could board us. If that happens, we should be prepared to take to the water.”
“Take to the water? You mean jump … in?” Instinctively, she pulled away from him.
Gaze never quite meeting hers as he ate, he bobbed his head. “Ship could lose dock privileges, which would cripple the business—”
“But I told you—I cannot swim!”
His blue eyes finally met hers, seemingly confused by her fear. “I’ll be there.” His gaze hit her uniform again, then darted down. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Was there something wrong with the way she had put on the uniform? But then his words filtered into her brain and made her pulse thump crazily.Stop being a fool.He just meant he will not let you drown.Which should be a comfort …
“We should stick to the cabin as much as possible.”
“Why?”
“The crew is all-male.”
