Page 26 of Afraid to Hope

“Of course.”

Bane waited until her glare evaporated before asking, “We’re not going directly home?”

“No.”

“Because?”

“Since I need to shop, I’m going to do it where I want to. I also should inquire something for a client.Habousis one of my favoritesouks.I haven’t been there in ages. Are you all right with that?”

Bane shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

“Wonderful!” Natasha said, looking forward toHabous.

A genuine smile transformed her face, taking Bane’s breath away. Christ, she was dazzling. He shook his head and groaned. “Hell, woman. We’re not even there yet and you’re telling me I have to put up with your shopping in addition to purchasing a backpack.”

“You’re correct,” she said lightheartedly. “I was hoping we could get lunch there too. I expect you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry.” Bane smirked before he faced forward. “Simon, does that work for you?”

“I am at your disposal.”

“Thanks, man. My dad always says, ‘Happy wife, happy life.’”

“Smart man.”

“Yup.”

In short time, they arrived back in Casablanca. Before exiting the car, they agreed to meet Simon in four hours, leaving plenty of time to browse, barter, buy, and have a leisurely lunch. Natasha and Bane strolled deep into the labyrinth of crowded, narrow alleys of the oldmedina,passing more than one overladen donkey. Bane snapped away with the camera. Sweet-looking beasts of burden carried rugs and bedding encased in plastic and other household goods that extended four feet or more on either side of their backs. Each of their cargos were roped together and seemingly supported by and sitting atop an enormously wide wicker basket that rested on a generous amount of padding over the animal’s spine, secured by a cinch around its belly and connected to the noseband of a colorfully corded halter.

A palette of vivid sights and intoxicating scents assaulted them as they entered thesouk—mountains of deep red paprika, rich brown cinnamon, and vibrant yellow turmeric, beds of fresh mint, and piles of long, thin, red saffron. Baskets of dates, olives, and salted almonds enticed them from farther down the aisle.

Natasha said excitedly, “I am going to cook tonight. What do you like, Bane?”

Surprised to be asked and that she’d used his first name, it took him a second to respond. “I eat anything.”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Do you have a specialty?”

“Not really. Mémé and I used to make a fabulous chickenbastilla.So I think I’ll make that and a vegetabletagine.Andharira.We can buy the bread and dessert from a baker.”

“Christ, my mouth is watering.”

Natasha laughed. “Well, maybe we should eat lunch first. It’s never a good idea to shop on an empty stomach. I can finalize what to make after we eat. And you can help me with preparations—that is unless you have a problem being in the kitchen?”

“I’m down for that. All of it. My mom taught me and my brothers to fend for ourselves in the kitchen. Where to, now that I can’t think of anything but eating? I need sustenance.”

“You eat constantly,” she chided.

“I’ve always had a healthy appetite. When you’re in the military, you eat when food is provided. It’s fuel, number one in my arsenal.”

“Well then. Come on,” she said, pivoting and walking at a brisk pace.

They walked past incense, ostrich eggs, and chickens and chameleons in wire baskets. Natasha made another right at the next convergence of aisles. One held carpets, lanterns, and rows of embroidered leather slippers and other tanned goods. Another held teapots andtagines.And another, carved wooden furniture. The final aisle was lined with jewelry and clothing, purses and backpacks. Around them the clamor of metal from workshops punctuated the sounds of vendors hawking their wares.

Bane focused on keeping his eyes up, so enticed was he by the skirt rippling over her firm hips. He observed his surroundings, but he was soon lost in the maze of color, chaos, crowds, and locals shouting to get his or Natasha’s attention. There was no hesitation in Natasha’s stride as she walked confidently ahead of him. Often he was rewarded with the sight of a trim brown ankle peeking out from her skirt or a soft smile when she turned her head and encouraged him with a slate-gray glance. She made one more turn, and they were outside thesouk.

The alley was much wider and less congested now, so he was able to walk beside her. “Are we close?”

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