Page 29 of Going Rogue
Rogue worried her lip. Even if she didn’t plan to get attached, what ifhedid? She would’ve groaned at her lack of foresight in that regard, but she feared waking him. Not only had he been so patient with her, but he’d helped her clean up and even held her after.
Would he have done that if he didn’t care about me?
She wished she knew what his typical M.O. was when it came to sex because shewas beginning to think she’d ventured into dangerous waters. Fake married was one thing, but if his protecting her meant more than simply helping a teammate out . . .Was it why he’d been so overprotective? Why he’d panicked at the compound?
She gulped against the acid burning its way up her throat. The dots were coming together, and she didn’t like the picture they formed. But even as her preservation instinct rebelled against the idea, a part of her wondered what it would be like to be married to Crane for real. Would she wake up wrapped in his arms like this every day? Did she want to?
Yes.
Her mind and then her body responded in the affirmative, promptly seizing all the breath in her lungs. This time the fear couldn’t be repressed. It wormed its way into her chest and squeezed off her air supply. Relationships weren’t worth the risk, and no matter how much she might like Crane, protecting herself from heartbreak was more important.
With her lungs screaming, Rogueextricated her limbs and her heart from his embrace. Despite their sticky skin, he didn’t wake, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God he was a heavy sleeper.
As quietly as she could, she donned her clothes. When she’d dressed, she fingered the stays on his tactical vest before putting it on. It was the closest thing she had to a shield of iron. She hoped, like the metal, it would dampen the pull between them. Let it protect her heart as much as her body.
With a lingering glance, she committed Crane’s image to memory. The covers pooled at his waist, revealing the dimples on his lower abdomen. They tempted her as she dragged her gaze over his softly rising chest covered in sparse coal-colored curls to the strong jaw, relaxed in peaceful sleep.
Their journey wasn’t over, but this felt like a goodbye. When the hollow in her chest widened, she ignored it. She’d made her choice for a reason, and she’d stand by it.
Outside, she found the camp already buzzing with activity. In the light of day, the little details she’d missed the night before stood out—the things marking this place asa home, like the hand-woven colorful strips of fabric decorating each tent. They flapped erratically when the wind gusted, catching her eye.
Most of the tents stood open, and inside, women appeared to be working on meal preparation. Several stares landed on Rogue as she moved into the central area where they’d eaten around the fire. The men she glimpsed quickly looked away, making her frown. They likely wouldn’t speak to her, but a plan had formed on how to get out of there, and she needed answers.
Not wanting to wait for Crane, she headed for the woman in the closest tent. Maybe she acted cowardly, but she needed more time to replaster the wall around her heart before she faced him.
As she made her way over, sheep bleated in the distance, the sound and smell of the animals carried to her on a breeze. When she stopped at the woman’s tent, the fresh cheese and cooked dough scents wafted through the open flap, replacing those earthy aromas with ones that made her mouth water.
While the woman peeled what looked like a potato to Rogue, she glanced around the tent. This one held a low table with containers, metal basins, and cooking utensils. More pans, oversized tubs, and bags of flour, she guessed, were stacked in another corner. No rugs on the floor here. They would be unnecessary in a kitchen, which this room seemed to be. In the center, where the woman kneeled, a fire pit smoked, waiting for the next dish. A platter filled with the bread and cheese she’d smelled sat next to it.
Would it be rude to ask for some?
The woman tilted her head to meet Rogue’s gaze. She looked close to Rogue’s age, her tawny features visible without a face covering. A thin black veil wrapped her hair and covered her ears, but it left her smile bare as she gestured for Rogue to sit.
Smiling in return, Rogue complied. The woman leaned forward and handed her a root vegetable—not a potato—and a small knife to peel it with. As she shifted back in her crouch, Rogue’s eye caught sight of the bright dress the woman wore underneath thelong black overcoat she had on. The red threading made Rogue wonder; black might be a requirement, but it seemed the Bedouin women still found ways to express themselves.
Using the dialect the leader had understood, she complimented the woman on the dress’s color.
In response, a thoughtful frown creased her lips as she took in Rogue’s attire. “You need dress?” Her stunted sentence suggested her grasp of the Western dialect wasn’t as strong as the leader’s they’d spoken with last night.
Before Rogue could respond, the woman stood. She’d gone halfway through a flap Rogue hadn’t noticed, which must’ve connected to another part of the home, when Rogue stopped her, “Wait!”
The woman turned with a questioning look.
“I don’t need a dress, thank you.” But she did need something from her. Rogue begged the woman to come back to the fire with a hand gesture. When she returned to her spot, Rogue tried again. “I need a vehicle. Somy husband and I can get to our friends. Can we trade for one?”
The woman’s gaze assessed her for several long seconds, but the only thing she said was, “Peel.”
Rogue did as requested and hoped the woman would have something more to say when she finished.
???
Crane
Crane jerked awake when the sound of an engine startled him from sleep. He instantly sat up, searching the tent for Rogue. His heart thundered in his chest when his eyes confirmed he was the only occupant. Throwing himself from the pallet, he pulled on his clothes in a haste to get out and search for her.
What if the militants had taken her again? What if she were hurt?
Panic built in his chest, and his thoughts sped through one horrible scenario after another.
