Page 75 of Warlord’s Empire

“Nikka and I were helping Nonna in the garden. She’s harvesting the cassava this week. We’re going to ferment a bunch of it once we’ve finished.”

“Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.”

She leaned back in his arms to look at him seriously. “I love gardening. I’ve never thought much about it before, but there’s something very satisfying about cooking and eating the food I’ve helped pull from the dirt. I think if I hadn’t gone to school for linguistics, I might have become a professional gardener.”

“Next you’ll be cooking all our meals, putting Nonna out of a job.”

“I couldn’t possibly do everything Nonna does, and with the skill she does it. I want to learn to cook more recipes, but I don’t enjoy it the way she does. I’m happy to give over the kitchen to her care.”

He was pleased to see Saskia taking so much interest in her new home. He loved seeing her happy, healthy and getting along with everyone in his household. He knew she would, of course, but she could also have chosen to be more difficult toward the people around her, having come there under duress.

When he’d investigated her past, he’d discovered a bit of a wild child with a stubborn streak a mile wide. When he’d gotten a copy of her security file he found she’d spent much of her youth skipping out on her security details. She must’ve made her parents go prematurely gray.

“How are things going with Deputy Saagan?” he asked.

It’d been a week since their visit to the politician and as far as he knew, Saskia had talked to the man daily, as well as liaised with Saagan’s assistant, Lilia, and his new head of security, Kenneth Briggs.

“It’s going well, I think,” she said, her expression growing serious. “I’ve done as you suggested and had Kenneth implement heavy surveillance in and around the hospital.”

“Excellent. I’m pleased to hear it.” He’d advised her to install facial recognition software in the hospital’s security system as well as in the local CCTV.

“Now that we’re done talking about me…” Her gaze grew softer, more compassionate. “How did your meeting with Dr. Vanhooven go?”

He didn’t like talking about himself and his therapy sessions, but he was doing it for Saskia so he did his best to tell her what they discussed. “It was fine. She wants me to….” He shook his head in disgust. “To honour my feelings of frustration by examining them and finding out where they come from.”

“It’s obvious,” she said in a gentle voice. “You’re punishing yourself for your past by crippling your ability to heal.”

“And yet I’m paying this woman $400 an hour to tell me the same thing.” He almost added that therapy was a scam, but he didn’t want the accompanying lecture, so he swallowed the words. “She also told me to ask you about your journal.”

She stiffened in his arms. “My journal?” she asked cautiously. “What about it?”

He chuckled. “I’m not asking to read it.” He already had, but she didn’t know that and he’d decided to stop now that she was with him. “She simply told me I should ask you how you feel after you write in it. Apparently, I’m not getting the right feelings.”

She laughed, relaxing. “It’s not about having right or wrong feelings, it’s more about the relief of getting them out on paper. It truly does help me, but maybe it’s not for you. I don’t think everyone has an affinity for it.”

He thought about it, before saying, “I think I should give it a better shot before deciding to quit. I’ve tried twice. Maybe next time I will try to write something that will relieve my mind.”

She hugged him closer. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help with.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, the sun streaming through the window and warming them. The scent of wildflowers drifted through the open window, surrounding them.

“If I can get better, will you marry me?” He’d meant to make a spectacle of the question when the time came, but this felt like the right moment. It was private, they were wrapped up in each other, both physically and mentally.

“Of course, I’ll marry you,” she said, hugging him to her. “Whether you get better or not. I’m here for the long run.”

Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her until she was straddling him on the chair. “You are remarkable, my angel. It would be my life’s honour if you will marry me.”

She closed the few inches between them, feathering her lips against his. “It would be my life’s honour to be with you forever, Sharif Muhammed Radik.”

He took her lips in a searching kiss that soon became all-consuming. Saskia clung to him as they explored each other.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” she moaned, wiggling on his lap, inflaming him further.

He’d intended to check in at the command center and discuss security with Nuani, but as always, Saskia turned his thoughts in a different direction.

He stood with her in his arms, swallowing her gasp of surprise as he shifted her.

“Agreed,” he said, barely releasing her lips.