Page 61 of Deadly Betrayal

“Sometimes we get old issues ofVanityFairmagazine at the bazaar. There was an issue a few monthsago with some excellent photos of you at home.”

Nic beamed. “Lauren took those.VanityFairis lucky to have her on staff.”

“Really? That’s a very prestigious position.”Azita smiled. It was nice to see a man so proud of his fiancée. “Inthe photos, there was a young woman in a wheelchair.”

Nic nodded. “My sister, Rachel.”

“I was very interested in the work you aredoing for children with spinal-cord injuries. Maybe someday suchtherapies will be available here.”

“All I did was supply the money. Rachel’s theone who started it up. She hires the therapists and ranch hands,she manages the money, she runs the whole thing.”

“I am impressed. Not many women could do whatshe has done, especially considering her situation. Is her injuryrecent?”

Nic’s face darkened and his mouth tensed. “Ithappened when she was nine.”

“Even more remarkable. I’m sure the supportshe receives from you has a lot to do with her success. Afghanistanhas many disabled children, young boys and girls who’ve lost limbsdue to IEDs in the fields where they play. No one believes in them.They have no hope. No future.”

Nic remained silent for a moment. Had shesaid too much? Spoken out of turn? Nic’s eyes shifted to Kaden, andfor a moment, before she could quell the emotion, she was jealous.The two men understood each other so well. A look was all it tookto know what the other was thinking. Azita had never experienced aconnection like that with anyone. In another time, in another life,she might have had a chance with Kaden.

Nic’s hands spread on the table and he tappedit. “Maybe there is something Rachel and I can do about that. We’dhave to start small, and only in areas that are safer. I’m notpromising anything, but we’ll look into it.”

Azita couldn’t breathe. She opened her mouthto speak. No sound emerged. This stranger, who had no ties to hercountry, no reason to help, was offering to do somethingextraordinary for Afghanistan’s forgotten children.

Kaden touched her back tentatively. When sheleaned into his hand, giving him silent permission, he moved it insoothing circles. She made her lungs relax and inhaled deeply. Itwasn’t until Kaden brushed a thumb under her eye that sheunderstood she was crying.

Jumping out of her seat, she clutched themovie star’s arm. “That’s all I could hope for. Thank you so verymuch. You are an incredible man.”

It took her a moment to realize Nic hadfrozen, a moment to realize what she’d done. Mortified, she droppedher hand and stepped back. Her eyes went from Kaden to Nic, whostared at her in bemused confusion. “Mota’asefam! I amsorry,” she stammered. “I should not have done that.” She raisedher hands in supplication. “I… I do not know why I did.”

“You were happy.” Kaden rose and threadedtheir fingers.

Needing his touch, his strength, she allowedit. “Yes.” She raised her chin, but couldn’t meet either man’sgaze. “In my culture though, it is forbidden to express happinessin such a way.”

Nic’s smile was warm. “Good thing I’mCanadian then. We’re a touchy-feely bunch.”

Giddiness building in her chest, she cast ashy glance at Kaden. They had no claims on each other. Couldn’thave any. Not now that she was essentially engaged to Khalid. Ofcourse, Kaden didn’t know that. Did he wish they could be more thanpartners in this rescue? She recalled their kiss last night, thethrill of touching his erection even through a layer of cotton,then drifting off to sleep with his arms around her. A blush creptup her neck to her face. She pressed her free hand to one burningcheek.

“I like to see you happy,” Kaden said. “Evenif it’s because your hands are on my boss.”

“Partner,” Nic quipped.

Azita could not tear her gaze from Kaden’sface. She loved every angle and plane, wanted to smooth her handsover them until she had each one memorized. Because, all too soon,the only thing she’d have left of this amazing man would be herbittersweet memories.

Chapter 15

Khalid was hot on Azita’s trail. So close, hecould almost smell her delicious fragrance. He’d followed hisfiancée and the American as they’d left the military camp with twoother men, then lost them when the American had made several quickturns.

A few handfuls of afghanis had taken care ofthat. He’d spotted some adolescent boys running through thestreets, who’d turned out to be fans of the actor, in hot pursuitof their cinematic idol. Pretending that he and Shahram were alsofans, they’d joined the group in their search. After two hours offalse starts, he’d been about to give up, when one of the boysspotted the white Corolla they’d seen near the German militarycamp. The youth had remembered the taped-up rear window.

While the group chased after the car, Khalidand Shahram stayed back. There’d been only one man in the car.

Azita was somewhere nearby.

Stepping into a small grocery, Khalid askedthe storekeeper about accommodations in the area. The old man’srheumy eyes looked him over, assessing the cleanliness and qualityof Khalid’s clothing. “The Seven Days Guesthouse is down the road.Turn left when you reach the public bath, go two more streets. Itwill be on your right across from Babur’schai-khana.”

He grinned happily, exposing his blackenedteeth as well as gaps where several were missing. In a land wherelife expectancy for a man was about fifty-eight, Khalid supposedthe old storekeeper was lucky to still be alive regardless of theshape he was in.

Khalid thanked him. Before exiting the store,he leaned in close. “If you don’t mind my asking, brother, how oldare you?”