Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
Z ain sat on the edge of his bed, satellite phone between his hands. It was almost 3:00 a.m. but there was no way he could sleep. Not yet.
He’d showered in the ostentatious bathroom—the only place without a camera. He was more of a prisoner here, wrapped in the stone walls, than he ever had been inside the Jaysh compound. The forced separation from Dana agitated his nerves. And Ali had insisted they relinquish their weapons, which also didn’t sit well with him. He’d managed to slip Dana one of his knives.
Nevertheless, the half-hour-long piping-hot shower—Jesus he’d missed running water—was a luxury he was happy to indulge in. His clean skin was new to him. He’d shave in the morning.
He stared at the screen but couldn’t think of the right words to say to his brother. There weren’t any. It had been three years since he’d spoken to his brother, and he’d changed. He dialed the digits he’d committed to memory and held the device to his ear. With the twelve-hour time difference, it was afternoon for Rami.
“Hello?”
The sound of his brother’s voice took Zain back in time again.
“Hey, man. It’s me.”
Rami’s sharp inhale made Zain get to his feet and start pacing. He wished he could be there to see his older brother’s face.
“Jesus Christ. Zain,” Rami blurted, his voice strained. “I thought you were dead. All this time... What happened? ”
Zain palmed the back of his neck and closed his eyes. What hadn’t happened? “It’s a long story.”
“Brick told me he thought they’d found you but—hell, I didn’t believe him. None of it feels real.” Rami’s tone was pained.
Remorse swallowed Zain’s heart. His decision to harden himself for the mission came back to bite him. He’d hurt his family, and there was no way to ask for forgiveness. Rami might understand, but it’d take time.
“Why didn’t you contact me?” Rami’s question stabbed through his chest. “We were worried, bro. Mom—I didn’t think she’d keep going. The only reason she hasn’t had a heart attack is because she’s been waiting for news about you. Closure.”
Pressure weighed on Zain’s lungs and hit the corners of his eyes. He was too exhausted to do this. To explain something his family would struggle to understand. But he owed Rami an explanation. “I know.” The admission came out weak, contrite. Pain and guilt burned his throat. They’d suffered because of him. “I—” He rubbed his thumb against his fingers, wishing he was better at this shit. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that.”
Silence. “You’re alive. That’s all I care about. Just come home.”
“On it.”
“Are you all right?”
That was a loaded fucking question. “Probably not,” he said with a scoff. “But I’m coming back in one piece. Dana almost didn’t.”
Rami muttered a curse. “I had no idea she went on a self-appointed mission. Had I known—hell. I would’ve gone myself. I’ll have words when she and Brick get back, that’s for damn sure.”
“She’s fine now.” He wouldn’t say she’d been assaulted. Wasn’t his place. But his hand clenched into a fist at the memory of interrupting Rakesh.
They spoke for a few more minutes then hung up. Zain lowered himself to the bed and kicked his legs up on the mattress, then clicked off the lamp on the bedside table. That was one tough phone call off his plate. Tomorrow he’d make the other—to Maxine.
His muscles ached as his cortisol finally reached a normal level .
Sleep came fast and hard.
But his mind never drifted far from those pretty blue eyes.
***
“You’re not listening.” Dana didn’t hide her exasperation. Talking to Taschen when he was riled up was like trying to tell a hurricane to change direction.
He had every right to be worried and pissed, which was why she hadn’t chewed him out yet.
She plucked a grape from the extravagant fruit spread on the kitchen table and popped it in her mouth. A guard had unlocked her door at 9:00 a.m. and told her breakfast was served, as if she were some kind of criminal being summoned to the prison cafeteria.
However, after the gourmet breakfast of a three-egg omelet, toast, bacon, hashbrowns, and fruit galore, she couldn’t exactly be mad.
“I’m listening to you try to justify a really careless decision that almost got you killed.”
She grimaced. She hadn’t just been almost killed. She’d have endured far more than that if Rakesh had gotten his way with her, but she wouldn’t share that with her brother. By the sound of his voice, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Brick sat across from her with a large plate of food and double the bacon she’d had. As Taschen yammered at her, she shifted her gaze to the hallway for the twenty-zillionth time since sitting down. Zain hadn’t emerged from his room, and she was about to go knock on his door.
Though she’d fallen asleep immediately after Zain left her room, intense nightmares about the man she’d fought on the road pulling the trigger on the gun had woken her several times. Each time, she’d hear the gunshot and would writhe in bed until she realized she was alive, and it was all a horrible dream.
Nonetheless, she’d made it to morning without any more attacks, and for that she was grateful. Now if they could just get on a plane to the US today, she’d be slap-freaking-happy.
She talked to Taschen for a few more minutes and promised to call him again as soon as she could. After hanging up the satellite phone Brick had lent her, she slid it across the table.
“He’s still pretty pissy,” Brick said, as he ripped off a large bite of toast.
She snorted and took a sip of her orange juice. “I hope he calms down before we get home.”
Brick brushed off his fingers over his napkin. “Has Zain said anything to you about why he was here all this time? I haven’t wanted to ask. But he clearly wasn’t a prisoner, like we thought.”
Dana fought the urge to squirm in her seat. Zain’s story wasn’t hers to tell, especially given the nature of his mission. She didn’t want to lie to Brick, but saying anything about the CIA could create a huge problem for all of them. “No,” she lied. There were too many eyes and ears everywhere. Later she’d tell Brick more—or at least explain that she couldn’t divulge any details regarding Zain’s time in Afghanistan.
Her gaze pinged toward the doorway as Zain entered. Her insides swirled with appreciation and desire as his eyes landed on her and a small, genuine smile softened his face.
He’d shaved. Not the whole length of his beard, but several inches; the bristles darkened his jaw just the right amount. His skin was deeply tanned, and his yellow irises seemed to glow in contrast.
Good lord he was gorgeous.
He wore American-style attire: a long-sleeved charcoal henley and jeans. He must have had the items in his go bag. Tattoos peeked out from the collar of his shirt, making his appeal that much stronger. Sexier. She pressed her knees together to stifle the urges coursing along the insides of her thighs. Even her nipples jumped to attention. Thankfully the loose-fitted black shirt she wore concealed her breasts. After the night she’d had, just slipping into the clean top and linen pants, even if they weren’t her typical style, seemed like a luxury.
Brick swiveled his head over his shoulder to see what had stolen her attention. He swung his face back to her, and a smirk lifted his lips.
Ass.
“Morning.” The sound of Zain’s husky baritone made her cheeks flush.
“Good morning.” She kept her tone light, even though the emotions inside her were anything but. “Sleep well?”
He grunted. “Slept like shit. But I always do.” He sat in the chair next to her and shuffled it closer to the table. “This looks amazing.”
A chef appeared with a tall glass of orange juice and asked Zain how he wanted his eggs cooked. He ordered three over easy with all the fixings.
Zain picked up his glass and chugged half the contents, then placed his elbows on the table and studied her face. She’d never get over the searing intensity of his gaze. Scrutinizing, yet in a pensive, thoughtful way that seemed to dial into her every emotion. “How about you, Dana? You sleep okay?”
She scrunched her face. “I’ll sleep better when we’re out of here.” She shot a look at Brick. “Any luck on a flight?”
He shoved another bite of eggs and hashbrowns into his mouth as if now choosing to ignore the heat between her and Zain. He wiped his mouth then took a sip of his coffee. “Yup. I’ve got us a private plane.”
Dana sucked in a breath. “We sat here for half an hour and you didn’t think to tell me that? ”
He shrugged. “Tellin’ you now.”
She rolled her eyes with annoyance. “Men.” She’d let Brick tell Taschen about their flight because she really didn’t want to get on the phone with him again.
“When do we leave?” Zain asked.
“We’ll head out at eleven. It’s a two-hour drive to the airport.”
Dana glanced at the clock. It was ten o’clock. She could wait one more hour.
Zain nodded. His gaze held a weight she couldn’t put her finger on. Worry?
“Did you speak to Rami?” Brick asked, taking another sip of his coffee.
“Yeah. We talked last night.” He looked at Dana as if he wished he could boot Brick from the room so it was just the two of them.
Or maybe that’s just the impression Zain gave. He had the unique quality of holding her attention and also making her feel as though she were the only person in the world. He never broke eye contact when she spoke, never interrupted, and seemed to analyze her every reaction.
The effect was addicting.
He made her want to talk more, made her want to bare her heart. Things she rarely did—and certainly not with someone she’d known for about eighteen hours.
The chef entered the dining room and slid Zain’s plate beneath his nose. Zain thanked him and reached for his fork. “What about you, Dana? Did you speak to your brother?”
Her stomach knotted. “Yes, just before you got here.”
He cut off a chunk of runny egg, placed it on his toast, and bit into it. He wiped his mouth and spoke again. “And was he as angry as you’d expected?”
A warm fuzziness washed over her. She was surprised he remembered her brief mention of Taschen. “To say the least.”
He frowned as if the idea of her brother being short with her irritated him.
“He’ll be fine once I’m home.” Not necessarily true. She’d probably be put through the third degree when she saw Taschen in person, but that was something she could handle.
As a matter of fact, in a day or so, when she did have to face him, she’d have a little more energy and her trauma would be a little further behind her—so she could blast him for underestimating her capabilities.
She loved how protective Taschen was. It was his nature, not a quality he reserved just for her. He’d always been protective of women, including their mom and a couple of Dana’s close friends growing up. He carried groceries for his elderly neighbor, Zelda, and shoveled her driveway in the winter. Taschen cared. He just didn’t know how to tone that shit down .
She’d made it pretty damn far in her adult life without his protection. She wasn’t a piece of fine China. She could defend herself.
As the three of them continued talking, Dana tried to hide her fascination as Zain gobbled up his enormous plate of food then asked for seconds. Brick’s serving appeared small by comparison.
When was the last time he’d eaten a good home-cooked meal? Her heart grew heavy. He probably hadn’t cooked for himself often, and whatever Jaysh provided surely wasn’t much when they had so many men to feed. Though if Zain had been lacking food, his size didn’t show it.
Ali entered the room and rubbed his hands together. “Good morning, everyone.” He made eye contact with all of them, including Dana. They all greeted him.
He looked fresh and dapper in a navy-blue suit and silver tie, his brown hair combed back neatly and his green eyes bright. “I guess Brick’s given you the news?”
“Just,” Dana said, shooting her friend playful daggers.
Brick sighed. “You’re not gonna let me live that down, are ya?”
“Nope.”
“Your brother said you’re a hard ass.”
Ali blinked, seemingly uninterested in their exchange, but Zain’s mouth lifted at the corner.
“Well then,” Ali cut in. “I’ll arrange for your transportation to the airport.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Brick insisted.
Ali beamed. “Of course I do. You’ll have a hell of a time finding reliable transit without my help. But that’s what friends are for.”
“I hope you’ll send Backcountry Protection a bill for your services these last couple of days,” Brick added.
“Don’t mention it.”
Zain took a bite of bacon and eggs then set his fork down. “Tell me,” he said to Ali. “What do you do for a living?”
The chef brought in Ali’s plate, and he thanked him in Pashto before shaking out a linen napkin and laying it across his lap. “Many things,” he finally replied. “My work is primarily in mining, but I dabble in technology.”
The vague response made Dana shift her attention to Brick then Zain, who bobbed his head slowly. “Must be hard running such a successful company under Jaysh’s nose. I’m sure they’re particular about who they allow to profit around here.”
Ali held his fork and knife with the tips of his fingers, almost awkward in his properness. Yet Zain’s question didn’t seem to ruffle his feathers. He didn’t even blink at the insinuation.
Brick cleared his throat before Ali could respond. “Ali’s a powerful opponent. He’s done many things to fight radical ideals. ”
“One learns to make the deals that are necessary to stay afloat. Sometimes your enemies are your closest friends.” Ali finally drew his focus from his plate and smiled around the table. “Please let me know if there’s anything you need for your trip home. I’m happy to accommodate.”
If that was his way of shutting down the conversation, he’d done it well. Zain’s brow stayed in a fixed, even line, and Dana wished she could stretch her leg far enough to kick him under the table.
It was one thing to have suspicions, but another to make accusations. If Ali suspected they distrusted him, they could very well get on his bad side. And she really, really wanted to board that plane today.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pack.” She looked in Zain’s direction as she stood.
He also got to his feet and smiled at Ali. “Thank you for breakfast and your hospitality. I have a phone call to make before we leave. Dana, I’ll see you to your room.” He waited for her to round the table and precede him down the hallway.
She reached her bedroom and slipped inside, waiting for Zain to follow her. He came in and closed the door, his face hard and his stance rigid. “Cameras,” he whispered.
Shit. She’d completely forgotten. To talk, she’d have to get close. She took a step forward, bringing her body against his.
His hand snaked easily around her waist, and he turned her so his back shielded them from the camera.
Let Ali think there was something between them. She didn’t care. What she needed was to find out what the hell Zain was worried about.
He brought his lips to her ear. “You do inconspicuous really well.” His warm breath tickled her skin and her loins clenched.
He was so big. His body encased hers with its broad build and staggering height. Delicious need danced along her nerve endings.
“Just following your lead from last night,” she said, feigning innocence. Yes, she wanted to talk to Zain without suspicion, but she also wanted to test the waters. To see if her body responded to him the same way after some food and sleep—and yup, sure did.
The tingling sensation deep in her abdomen had had nothing to do with exhaustion or confusion and everything to do with the large alpha male warming her core with his steely abs pressed close to her chest.
Good lord, she was playing with fire.
He nuzzled her neck, and ripples of gooseflesh raced down her back.
“Act like you like this.” His hand tensed on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.
She tipped back her head and closed her eyes. To an onlooker, she’d appear to be lost in her lover’s arms...
But that’s not what this was.
His lips touched her earlobe, so soft she thought her overstimulated brain had imagined it. She gripped his shirt, needing to feel his mouth on her again. Would he kiss her?
Her heart sped up.
“Ali’s a threat,” he murmured.
She tensed but didn’t open her eyes. “Mm-hmm.”
“I want you to stay away from him. Stick by me until we get to the US.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
“I mean it. Brick’s blinded by his friend’s generosity. I see through it. We’re walking into a trap, and I don’t want you on the wrong side of this.”
The racing of her heart reached a dangerous level, her senses jumbled with fear and arousal. She couldn’t land on rational thought.
He tipped his head back an inch, and his face hovered above hers. His stare bore into her eyes, watchful, concerned... protective. Heat emanated from his chest. Even more powerful was the desire in his eyes. Scalding. His dark eyelashes rimmed the golden embers imprinting on her soul.
Some of the fear left her body—the one thing Zain had proven over and over was that he’d protect her. He’d get them out if it cost him his life, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying being surrounded with such a force of masculinity.
“Understood” was all she could manage.
His gaze drifted to her lips. “One more thing for good measure.” He touched his mouth to hers and electricity shot to her toes. Pressure pulsed through her body, so forceful it rattled her knees.
His tongue glided between her teeth but only for a fraction of a second. He pulled away and his arms fell.
She swayed forward, wanting his warmth and desperate to read his expression, but he’d already locked it down as he moved toward the door.
“I’ll be back in half an hour. I’ve got a call to make.” He disappeared into the hall.
She brought her fingertips to her lips, and an ache channeled through her. Getting involved with Zain was all kinds of wrong. Dangerous even.
But she was already in over her head.