Chapter 23 #2
But, right now, being followed wasn’t the problem.
Surviving the night and the trek back to Azraq would be.
Thank goodness March in the Jordanian desert wasn’t as harsh as other times during the year—but the nighttime temperatures could get close to freezing.
The days were milder but would feel hot compared to the night.
And they didn’t have water. Or a source for it.
Out here a person could make peace with their Maker—fast. No wonder the desert showed up as a theme so often in the Bible.
But Jack had grown up around arid deserts like this in Phoenix.
He was comfortable in them. His family had moved there because of Alice, when the doctors out East had recommended the climate there for her asthma.
Unlike his mother, Jack had grown to love it, and his father had found work as an archeologist—but he’d also found the saloons and poker tables.
The final nail in the coffin of Frank Darby’s crumbling career.
Mom had fled back East before Dad’s death, abandoning Alice to Jack’s care.
But for a long time before that, it had always been Alice and Jack, a little family all on their own, against the world.
Against his better judgment, he snuck a glance at Ruby, the anger from the lorry explosion beginning to thaw. They were alike in many ways.
Stubborn.
Willing to do the unthinkable for their siblings.
Grudgingly, he offered, “I know you were trying to help back there. And I’m sorry I was so harsh.”
Her lips pursed, but her shoulders relaxed some. A few more footsteps passed before she said, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to start the truck.”
He sighed. “Fact of the matter is, without a mechanic out here to fix the damned thing, it was already useless. I just took my anger out on you.”
She nodded but didn’t respond.
Great. Guilt was the last thing he needed right now.
“Ruby, I’m sorry,” he said again. “You don’t need to feel responsible for this on top of everything.”
She scowled. “Why do you care what I feel?”
“I don’t know. But I do. Call me a sucker for pretty blondes carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.”
“Is that all you see me as? Someone vulnerable to take advantage of?”
“No, Ruby, no, I—”
“I didn’t tell you about my life so you could reduce me to a caricature.”
“Stop.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and then reached for her, catching her hand in his before she could move out of his grasp again.
The feeling of her fingertips brushing against his made goose bumps rise on his arms.
She stopped walking, though. Didn’t let go of his hand.
God, he wanted to believe she wasn’t just doing this for the money. That somewhere back in Lydda station, she’d decided to help him because of this. This connection between them that he’d felt growing since the moment he’d met her.
But that wasn’t true.
She’s only here for the money.
And he needed to make his peace with that.
Maybe in another time, another life, another world, they would have had a shot at … something. Something that wasn’t based in shallow motivations and necessity.
But, then again, he didn’t need her to be good.
Didn’t need this attraction to amount to anything. Fact was, he had nothing left to offer her. What little had remained of his heart after Kit had gone to Ginger.
And part of the reason I’m here is because of Kit.
The idea of Kit being alive was something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around, and yet it was powerful enough of a motivator that here he was, in the middle of the desert, chasing clues that he was sure she’d left in a newspaper just for him.
Prescott had known that Jack could never stop loving Kit—which was why he’d held her out as bait to look for Alice. He’d started this whole thing off thinking about Kit. Driven to find her because he’d never forgotten her.
So why am I letting Ruby get to me so much?
Why did I kiss Ruby?
Somehow, she’d found a crack in his armor. Gotten in, even though he didn’t want her there.
And the worst part was—she didn’t want to be there either.
As though she sensed the war going on inside him, Ruby interlaced her fingers with his and stepped closer. “Don’t feel bad. Considering that I robbed you and you blackmailed me, we probably have too much to overcome to be friends, anyway, Jack.”
Jack stared at her, tempted to kiss her again. Her lips had been so soft. So pliant.
Seductive.
Lust curled through his veins, with a force he hadn’t expected, and he let himself bathe in it for a moment. She wouldn’t be good for him, but why should it matter? He’d had brief love affairs before—none of them wise—but with minimal damage.
He closed his eyes.
Kit.
He could barely remember her face.
The memories were there, but the sound of her voice—gone.
And if she’d lied to him, faked her own death, gone to work for Blackwell … did he really owe her any loyalty now that he’d found she’d lived after all?
The buzzing sound of an airplane cut into his thoughts.
Jack startled, dropping Ruby’s hand as he looked up into the sky, searching for a sign of the plane.
His pulse quickened.
Of course.
“What is it?” Ruby asked, scanning the sky with him.
“A plane. There’s an old RAF airstrip at Azraq. Desert patrol might still use it.” Then, excitement cut through him. “I have an idea. But we have to hurry. Get back to Azraq before the plane heading there leaves again.”
She gave him a bewildered look. “Weren’t we heading for Azraq anyway?”
“Yes, but this time we might have a quick way out of there. To Baghdad. If we can reach Azraq in time, I might be able to get us a ride. I know someone at the airfield in Rutbah—he still owes me.”
“And you’re just remembering this useful friend now?” Ruby arched a brow.
Jack smirked. “I wouldn’t entirely put it like that. It’s just more that up until now I didn’t want to go anywhere close to British officials if I could avoid it. Now I’m running out of options. And sanity.”
He started forward once again, adrenaline quickening his pace.
“So much for sleeping,” Ruby muttered with a shake of her head.
“We can sleep in Baghdad. Let’s go.”