Page 31 of Sweet Betrayal

“I know people there. Cooks, admin staff, security personnel. They’re civilians. They don’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s war, Hannah. No part of it is fair.”

“But there has to be something we can do. Warn them somehow?—”

He cut her off gently. “There’s not. Best thing we can do is stop this before it escalates. And for that, we need you.”

There was a beat of silence. She watched the muscles in his forearm tighten as he rolled the map back up. To think she could save all those people, if she handed over the intel now.

A lump formed in her throat. Soon, she’d give it to him soon, once she was safely on a plane out of here.

“Why did you take the job with Prince Hakeem?” he asked, when the silence stretched on.

“It seemed exciting at the time.” If only she’d known. . . “I want to go into public relations, and this seemed like a great opportunity. It would look good on my resume. Plus, the salary package was excellent.”

“How long were you there?”

“Six months.” She laughed without humor. “Doubt I’ll ever see that last paycheck.”

He gave her a small smile. “You’re alive. That’s more than a lot of people will be able to say when this ends.”

That sobered her. He had to go there. Didn’t he know this was destroying her?

“And the language?”

“My grandmother. I was very close to her and my grandfather. Spent a lot of time with them growing up.”

“What about your folks? Were they around?”

“My mother died when I was in high school and I don’t get on with my father.” They hadn’t spoken in almost a year, ever since she’d told him she was taking this job.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She shook her head. Frustration, guilty, exhaustion, they were all making her snappy. “I think I should turn in.”

“Yeah, we both should. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You sure? I don’t mind the?—”

He got to his feet. “I’m sure.”

Hannah followed him down the short corridor to the bedroom. He opened the door and switched on the light. “It’s not much, but it’ll do.”

She walked inside and immediately felt a weird sense of intimacy. The bed was a single, unmade, the covers thrown hastily over the mattress. The stand beside it contained a lamp, a half-drunk glass of water, and a pencil. Beneath the bed, she could see a set of free weights.

“I’ll get you some clean bedding.”

“Please, don’t worry on my account. I’m so tired I’ll be out like a light, and it’s too warm to get under the covers anyway.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. We’re leaving tomorrow and not coming back. Changing the sheets is pointless. I’ll sleep on top.”

Giving her an awkward nod, he went to the closet and took out a couple of items of clothing. “So I don’t wake you rummaging around.”

She watched him, suddenly struck by the intimacy of the moment. His things. His space. Her heart tugged in her chest.

“Thanks, Tom. For everything.”

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