Page 18 of Zain

She took the bundle, and glanced around the cave. “Thanks.”

“I’ll turn around.” He spun to face the wall and pulled off his tunic then shucked off his pants. A moment later he heard her clothes hitting the solid ground. Knowing she was naked and close made a channel of need spread to his cock.

Despite the fact that he’d been deprived of female companionship—in any form—there was no denying Dana was a beauty. Striking.

To be fair, a cave woman would probably turn him on right now, so maybe he wasn’t a good judge of attractiveness.

“Okay,” she called, sounding a little winded.

He rotated to face her as she wrapped a turban around her hair. But she wasn’t doing it properly and wouldn’t have a long-enough end. “Here.” He stepped forward and took the turban from her.

Keeping his gaze on her hair as he swept the cloth around her head for the second time that day, he tried to ignore the faint scent of cherry blossoms that wafted from her silky strands. The aroma filled his nostrils and went straight to his head like intoxicating fumes.

The memory of the cherry blossom trees on his mom’s property filled his mind. In seconds he was thrown back in time, running through her yard and climbing trees. He and Rami always competed to see who could climb the highest.

Usually Rami because he was older. Zain would always stop to pull cherry blossoms off the tree to give to his mom, who’d beam when he came in covered in dirt with the partially crushed flowers in his hand.

“There.” He dropped his arms.

Dana picked up the long tail and draped it over the opposite shoulder. “Thank you. I’d try harder to get the hang of that, but I hope it’s not something I have to practice for much longer.”

He grunted and scooped up his backpack, fishing the set of keys from the inside pocket. “Wish I could promise you safety, but I can’t.”

She chewed her bottom lip, her eyes downcast. She’d been more hesitant since he told her aboutthe CIA operation. Clearly she blamed herself. And hell, she was at fault in a way. But only because she hadn’t known.

She bent and picked up the knife. “Here.”

He glanced down but didn’t take it. Instead, he reached into his duffel and took out a sheath. “This clips onto your pants.”

She accepted the leather and peeled up the shirt she swam in. Her fingers worked to pry apart the clip at the back, but she struggled to do so with the knife still in her hand.

“Let me see.” He took the sheath and extended the waistband of her pants. Creamy skin peeked out from the gap in her clothing. His knuckles brushed her soft flesh, and he had to fight the urge to stroke her skin. Biting his tongue so he wouldn’t do anything stupid, he slid on the clip. Then he took the knife from her and fit it into its new home. “There.”

He moved toward the entrance of the cave. “Look,” he said, stopping and turning. He fought for words, for a vocabulary full of decency and understanding he’d lost years ago. “You didn’t know about my mission. You were only trying to help Rami.”

Her eyes found his. They were so bright and bottomless he could lose himself in them for hours—days.

“Thank you.”

He lifted the corner of his mouth. “Don’t thankme. We might not live another hour.”

She brought her fingers to his elbow. “I mean it. Thank you. Rakesh would have—” Her throat moved on a swallow. “Even if I die tonight, I’m grateful you spared me that trauma.”

Fresh anger bunched his muscles. If he could bring Rakesh back from the dead and slit his throat all over again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Shoving down those words because they’d probably scare the shit out of her, he gave a brisk nod. “As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you.” Normally he didn’t make promises. Not to himself and sure as hell not to anyone else.

But this wasn’t a promise. It was a guarantee. He barely knew this woman, but he wouldn’t let anyone touch a hair on her delicate head, let alone violate her.

The lines of tension on her face softened, and the corners of her lips turned down. “Thank you.”

“You said that.”

She sniffed.

Ah, hell.Don’t cry.

“Yeah. I know. I just—It’s been a rough day. You know?” Her voice grew impossibly small. His war-hardened heart melted a bit but Jesus. How could he comfort her when he didn’t have an ounce of compassion left in him?

Well, maybe that wasn’t true. Because whatever he felt for Dana’s pain was something. Without dropping his bag, he brought his free hand to wraparound her shoulders. Her slight frame clicked against his like a magnet to stainless steel.

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