Page 25 of Zain

Brick’s placating tone was wearing down her patience.

She was grateful to be alive. Grateful he’d met them and had a safe place for Zain and her to regroup. But she wouldn’t feel safe until Jaysh was across the ocean.

“There’s just no way I can sleep. It seems careless to just...hang outwhen we could be putting distance between us and the men who want Zain dead.”

Well, Zain and her, but she didn’t say that. She’d already told Brick everything but the nitty-gritty details about Rakesh attempting to rape her. He was a smart man and had probably deduced enough from what she’d said.

“If you rest your eyes, you’ll feel better.”

She puffed out an exasperated breath. She wasn’t getting anywhere. Brick was insistent that they all spend the night and arrange for a private flight out of Pakistan the next day. From his perspective, it was a logical request.

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over the cleantunic Ali had provided, a beautiful afghan he apparently kept on hand for guests—although it was after 2:00 a.m. and she really didn’t care what she was wearing. They were in a high-tech mansion in the mountains, and her brain was still struggling with the contrast. From damp, haunting caves to a stunning property and massive, impersonal house in a matter of hours. It was almost too much for her system.

“You’re beat. Go to sleep.” He squeezed her shoulder. “The guards lock female guests’ bedrooms. It’s for your own safety. And, uh—” He glanced over his shoulder. “Every bedroom has a camera. So if you want privacy, be sure to use your bathroom.”

Unease scampered over her skin like the legs of a centipede. She fought off a shudder.

“I’m right across the hall and Zain’s next door. Safe as a baby.”

She grimaced at the reference and lifted her gaze to the glassy eye watching her from the ceiling. The soles of her feet itched to hightail it out of here. Zain’s words about a wealthy man in this part of the world careened through her mind.

Ali had been more than accommodating and polite, but his men, who all resided on the property, made her uneasy.

She’d met two—exhaustion prevented her from remembering their names—and they’d treated her like some of the men in Afghanistan had: as if shewere invisible and her presence was unwanted.

News flash, dudes. I don’t want to be here either.

“Go to bed.” Brick drifted to the hallway as Zain appeared at her door.

“You can come in,” she said.

In the bright fluorescent lights of the home, Zain’s tall stature and sharp jaw line stood out more. The dirt on his skin seemed like a permanent coating, and blood splatters that she hadn’t noticed in the dark decorated his forehead. “I just wanted to check on you before I call Rami.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right. But I’ll be better when we’re home.”

He dragged the tip of his thumb along the hairline of his beard. “Same.” He stepped farther into the room, drawing short of touching her toes with his. His gaze raked over her face. She’d showered before putting on the clean clothes and had seen the bruises on her face. The sight of her reflection had brought tears to her eyes. Not because she looked like shit, but because the markings were a constant reminder that she’d come close to dying.

“Those must hurt.”

Touching the spot beneath her eye that still throbbed, she stifled a wince. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his expression now stoney. “I just wanted to tell you... the promise I made you earlier. It still stands.”

She drew her eyebrows together. Fatigue madeher thoughts muddy and slow. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He stepped closer to her, blocking the camera with his back. Leaning in, he withdrew his hand from his pocket. His fingers brushed over the material of her pants, and he slipped something inside her pocket. His lips dipped close to her ear, his breath warm and teasing on her skin. Her body temperature rose and her loins clenched at his closeness. Despite her response to him, his actions lacked sexuality. “As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you.”

Her eyes flickered, and she leaned into him. His words caressed her battered soul, and she swallowed the emotion clogging her throat. She gripped his shirt for the simple reason that she needed to touch him. Needed more of whatever promises he’d give, empty or not.

He stilled at her touch, his body going rigid. He pulled back an inch, just enough so that his face hovered near hers. The amber coals of his eyes glistened with uncontrolled attraction.

She gripped tighter. “You don’t think we’re safe here.” Her words were barely a whisper.

“I don’t think we’re safe anywhere.” He brushed his fingers across her forehead, and heat radiated through her core. God he was tempting. Dangerous. Hot. “But I want anyone watching to know that you’re protected.”

Oh.

She wet her lips, not breaking eye contact. He wasn’t coming on to her. Who was she kidding? Of course he wasn’t. They’d been through hell and back the last few hours, and he wanted to follow through with his promise. That’s all this was.

His closeness; his tantalizing scent; his warm, gentle touch; the watchful flare in his eyes—all nothing more than him wanting to stand between violation and her.

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