Page 47 of Sweet Betrayal

A ghost of a smile played at Tom’s mouth. “That’s how you learned Arabic?”

She nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess that’s where I learned to adapt—bouncing between boarding school and my grandparents’ place, shifting from one world to another. I got good at reading the room, figuring out who I needed to be.”

Tom folded the map and gave her a long, considering look. “That actually explains a lot.”

“Does it?” she asked, tilting her head. She couldn’t tell if he meant it as a compliment or a subtle dig.

“Yeah. You keep moving forward, even when it’s tough. You don’t fall apart. You adjust, keep going. That takes real strength.”

For a moment, she just looked at him. The wind had stilled. The ruins around them stood silent, ancient witnesses to this strange, fragile connection between them.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice catching in her throat.

He nodded and stood. “Try to get some sleep. We head out early.”

She gave a small, wry smile and mock-saluted. “Copy that.”

And just like that, the moment passed. The mission came rushing back. But something between them had shifted. Maybe now he would see her as more than a liability—maybe they were starting to be friends.

Hannah wasdeep asleep when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.

“Let’s head out.”

She blinked, disoriented, and stared up at the star-strewn sky. “But it’s still nighttime.”

Every part of her ached. Her legs were stiff, her feet tender and sore. Grit lined her eyes from the sandstorm, and she had a kink in her neck from using Tom’s backpack as a pillow. She ran a hand through her tangled hair—and winced when her fingers snagged.

She must look like hell.

The almost-full moon hung low, ready to slip below the horizon and leave this side of the world behind.

“It’s 0500 hours.” Tom was all business again. “If we leave now, we should reach Mandhab by sunrise.”

She groaned. Another long walk.

His words from last night came back to her.

Adjust. Keep moving forward.

She could do this—she had to.

She sat up and blinked a couple of times. Slowly, the moonlit ruins sharpened into focus.

“Wow.” She paused, taking them in. The pale stone formations shimmered faintly in the soft light, glowing like ghosts of the past. It was strangely beautiful, and a little haunting.

Tom followed her gaze.

“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured. “Hard to believe this used to be someone’s home.”

“There are ruins like this all over the country.”

She stood, brushing the dust from her clothes. “It’s such a shame they’ve all been destroyed.” There wasn’t much to gather. She’d slept in her clothes, and the warm night hadn’t called for a blanket. Exhaustion had knocked her out the moment she lay down.

Tom looked tired too—rumpled, unshaven, but still hot as hell. The dark smudges under his eyes softened him in a way she hadn’t expected. And that stubble was definitely turning into a beard. She remembered how it had felt when he kissed her, how it had brushed against her chin?—

No. She shut the thought down. That had been a mistake, a distraction.

“Did you get any sleep?” she asked.

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