Edge of Courage (Edge Security Series Book 5) (9 page)

Dark brown should do. She threw that in her basket and went to the cashier to pay. After she’d finished, she turned to look for Amirah. They’d agreed to meet by the door. No one stood there. There were a few other veiled female shoppers, but no one of Amirah’s height.

Frowning, she went to the door. Had she stepped outside?

Dammit. A block away, Amirah’s husband had a hold of Amirah’s arm, dragging her home. Amirah kept looking back at the store.

He’d left Sarah to get back on her own. It wasn’t impossible but it was a pain in the ass. She’d have to attach herself to unsuspecting males and trail after them, hoping they’d keep walking in the right direction.

Then she saw why Fouad had gotten spooked and left her to fend for herself. Three members of the
hisbah
strode down the sidewalk toward the store.

Fouad wasn’t going to get any cookies from her.

S
arah pulled back
into the store, but stayed where she could watch the men. She wanted to curse aloud when she saw them step onto the sidewalk in front of the open door. She moved up the aisle and over one. The store had only four aisles, with an open center lane breaking them up in the middle.

Sarah now stood in the second aisle from the door, close to the middle lane. Her hand touched the cans of peas in front of her as if she browsed the labels.

The men spoke loudly when they came in the store, laughing about the antics of one of their children.

Sarah was too short to look over the aisle to see them, so she kept track with her ears. Another woman at the end of her aisle closer to the door did the same, standing frozen in front of packets of spices before darting to the far end of the aisle and disappearing.

Time for Sarah to disappear too.

She followed the woman’s route, but did a quick peek around the corner before moving. One of the
hisbah
had stationed himself at the door and now had the woman who’d moved first by the arm.

“Where is your
mahram
?” he asked the woman.

Shit.

Sarah pulled back and hurried down the aisle. In the middle, she turned left, away from the door. She passed the paper towels and cleaning supplies and headed for the large freezers lining the wall. There had to be a back entrance somewhere.

At the last aisle, she took a quick peek before stepping out. A man perused the batteries on display at the far end. His long beard and black
dishdasha
gave him away. One of the
hisbah.

She moved back before she drew his attention. Damn, she felt like a mouse caught in a maze with three cats. Sooner or later they were going to stumble upon her. The man by the door still berated the sole woman for being alone. At least one of them was out of commission.

She eased away. She needed a distraction.

She went back to the aisle with the canned vegetables. She picked up a large can of tomatoes. No one else was near her. The woman’s sobs almost covered the sound of footsteps coming her way. Her gut tightened.

She would not get caught like this.

She whipped the can to the back of the store near where she’d last seen the one
hisbah
. It landed with a thunderous crash against the freezer doors and the men started shouting. Footsteps pounded up the aisle beside hers.

She ran for the door. The man no longer stood there. She slipped out without looking back and joined the foot traffic on the sidewalk, slipping calmly behind a veiled woman who walked behind her man.

Sarah’s heart pounded and she desperately wanted to look back; instead, she kept her head lowered like the woman in front of her and trudged the two blocks to her housing complex, but it was on the other side of the street. She slowed her pace when she came to the corner and then slid among the trailing women of another family crossing the road.

With a quick glance around, she slipped into the alley between buildings and then into the area behind hers. She knocked once on her back door before opening it.

Dylan stood there with his Sig Sauer pointed at her. She slowly raised her hand and pulled off her veil. “It’s me.”

He holstered his gun with a scowl. “Where the hell have you been? Your friend and her husband came back fifteen minutes ago.”

She brushed past him into the living room and pulled aside the curtain. Dylan came to stand behind her. Outside, the men of the
hisbah
strode down the street; their heads swiveling as they searched for someone. For her.

She blew out a breath and dropped the curtain. Too close.

“What happened?”

She went to move around him, but he blocked her.

“Sarah?”

“The
hisbah
showed up. Amirah’s husband freaked and he took her home.”

“So you were left on your own to deal with them?”

“I handled it,” she said.

He crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t go out by yourself again. It’s not safe.”

Anger erupted inside her. She ripped off the
abaya
she wore and tossed it aside, before crossing her arms. “I said I handled it. You have to trust me.”

“I do, but…”

“No buts.” She stomped by him into the kitchen. Never before had she wished for a glass a wine so much. “We’re on a mission. Would you treat Jake this way?”

Dylan sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is.” Sarah started a pot of coffee. If she couldn’t have alcohol, then she’d at least have caffeine.

“No, it’s not. Don’t put this on me,” he said. “This mission has a different set of rules. You’re a female. You can’t go solo without attracting attention. That goes against everything you’ve learned and what you’re trained for.”

He was right, but it still chafed. She wanted to tear her
abaya
and veils into pieces. She wanted to burn them. But without them she was truly trapped in this place. Dylan just watched her with a look of compassion on his face. It irritated her. And that fact that she was irritated by his compassion irritated her even more. She was acting emotionally and not logically, like an operator should.

Fuck. She needed a few minutes and a cup of caffeine to get herself leveled out.

She dug the hair dye out of the bag and threw it at him. “Don’t forget to do your eyebrows and beard.”

She started to put away the few groceries that she’d purchased. Unfortunately, Dylan didn’t leave. He just waited in the doorway and watched.

Finally she turned to him. “Fine. I won’t go out alone.”

He nodded and headed for the bathroom.

“Unless there’s no other choice,” she muttered.

“I heard that,” he called, his voice hard. “And there’s always a choice.”

The bathroom door closed.

She wanted to whip the chicken broth at the door; instead, she poured herself a coffee. “I am a cool, logical operator.”

And maybe if she repeated it enough times, it would be true.

D
ylan read
the instructions on the box of hair dye and tried to control the anger that simmered inside him.

How dare she put herself in danger like that? And all for some hair dye? He stripped off his shirt and mixed the chemicals together before he rubbed it through his hair. The smell made his eyes water, but he refused to open the door for fresh air. He didn’t want to see Sarah, afraid he might say something more.

She was a skilled operator, but something about this place raised the hair on the back of his neck. The roving patrols of fanatics could have easily caught her. And from the paleness of her face, he suspected they almost had.

Not that she would tell him about it, damn her.

Her stubbornness and refusal to talk to him reminded him so much of Natalie, his high school girlfriend. She’d also always said things were fine. That she could handle her alcoholic father and he’d made the stupid mistake of believing her.

Until the night she couldn’t and she’d landed in the hospital because of the beating her father had given her. Dylan had never known how bad it had been for her because she’d never opened up and he’d never pushed it.

He’d vowed never to let something like that happen again. To never again let himself be in a relationship with someone who wouldn’t open up to him.

But no matter what he did, Sarah wasn’t talking. He’d known before he’d found her good-bye note that their relationship wouldn’t have a chance if she didn’t learn to trust him.

From her actions, she still didn’t trust him, not even as a partner, let alone as a friend or lover.

He checked his watch. Twenty minutes. He’d been in here breathing in fumes and obsessing for the last twenty minutes. Fuck. What was his problem? Why did he let her get to him? He needed to keep it professional between them.

Rakin should be back by tonight and then he could get the fuck out of here. He shucked his pants and turned on the hot water tap. At least today it was tepid.

He washed the gunk out of his hair. The dark-brown water roiled around his feet before going down the drain, reminding him of a muddy river. Not a good sign of what he was going to look like.

When he stepped out of the shower, he stared at himself in the mirror. A stranger looked back at him. The dark hair made him look harder and meaner. It suited his mood, he decided as he pulled on his pants.

Someone knocked on the front door and he glanced out of the bathroom. Sarah strode to the front entrance. He yanked his Sig from the holster on the back of the toilet and watched Sarah as she pushed aside the curtain at the front window.

“It’s Amirah,” she whispered without looking back. “Stay hidden.”

He pulled back, but not far. He wasn’t going to let Sarah get into trouble again.

A
mirah burst through the door
, ripping her veil off. Tears streamed down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah. I was so worried.”

Sarah opened her arms because it was expected and Amirah launched herself into them. She squeezed Amirah awkwardly, wondering how long she should hold her for.

“It’s okay, Amirah.” She pulled back to look into the woman’s face.

“No, it’s not. I’m so mad at Fouad for pulling us away. You could have been taken, and all because you wanted to get some soup for your brother.”

Sarah pulled out of Amirah’s arms. “Fouad was just trying to protect you.”

“I’m still mad at him.” She looked over Sarah’s shoulder. “How is Rakin?”

“He’s fine.” Sarah moved to block Amirah from coming farther into the house. “I’d invite you in, but I’m not sure if what he has is contagious.”

Amirah frowned, but her brow smoothed and she nodded. “Of course.” She looked down and nodded again. “I understand.” Her voice held just a slight tremble.

Sarah felt like shit. She’d never before denied entrance to Amirah. She must believe Sarah didn’t want her in her home. And she didn’t, but not for the reason Amirah believed. Sarah wanted to pull her back into a hug, but knew that would only make things worse. Her insides seemed to shrivel at the look of hurt in Amirah’s eyes.

“I am truly sorry,” Amirah whispered again.

“I know,” Sarah said, her throat tight. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” But she wasn’t sure they would. It struck her that if she left, she would be leaving Amirah behind to deal with the hell that Mosul was becoming.

She shut the door on her friend and closed her eyes. A slight whisper of sound told her Dylan stood behind her, but she didn’t turn around. Not yet. She needed just a moment to put her armor back on. Somehow Amirah always managed to steal it from her.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said quietly.

She still didn’t turn. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I can see it’s hurting you to lie to her. And it’ll be hard for you to leave her behind.”

She sucked in a breath. How could he know that?

She turned. “Are you a mind read—”

He was shirtless again. And he’d used the dye. His hair now lay over his forehead in dark locks, highlighting his lean face and his vividly blue eyes. Those eyes pierced the very armor she’d been trying to repair.

Her breath hitched.

His brows furrowed slightly and he took a step closer.

That wasn’t good. She took a step back. A slight smile quirked his lips and heat entered those blue eyes, darkening them.

Really not good. She backed up another step and her back hit the door. She had to keep distance between them. “We’re on a mission,” she blurted.

He nodded slowly, but didn’t take his eyes from hers as he moved closer. Her need for air seemed to increase the closer he got. When he stood only inches from her, her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

Not. Good.

He brushed one finger over her cheek and then trailed it down her neck to the spot where her pulse beat a rapid rhythm.

“I’ve missed us,” he said, his voice low.

“We’re on a mission,” she repeated in a whisper. “This can’t happen between us.”

“Why not?” Dylan traced his finger back up her neck and toward her ear. She shivered. He leaned closer. “We have nowhere to be and nothing to do but wait.”

It was true. And it didn’t have to mean anything. Why shouldn’t she indulge herself a little? Compelled toward him, she stopped when her lips were only inches from his. “Jalila,” she whispered.

“Downstairs,” he said.

She nodded. “Just this once.”

His lips touched hers; her eyes closed and her body ignited. Fire shot through her system with that simple touch. Her lips sensitized and a moan slipped from her. He pressed closer, until she could feel the heat of him all along her body. She slid her hands along the hot skin of his chest and over his broad shoulders, pulling him to her.

“Sarah?” Jalila said from the kitchen doorway.

Dylan jerked back, while she yanked her arms to her sides.

She drew in a ragged breath. What did this man do to her? She lost all sense of herself when he was around. She needed to get a grip.

It was why she’d needed distance from him. She tried to keep it to just sex between them, but each time had been more explosive than the last, and more emotional for her. Dylan’s fiery touch stripped away her armor along with her clothes, leaving her soul bare to his gaze, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t know what he’d find, or worse, if he’d find anything at all.

It had been a part of why she’d accepted an overseas assignment. She’d needed space, but once she got here, the mission gave her more: it gave her a purpose. Helping the women and girls here made her feel as though she was making a difference. It almost made up for her loneliness.

“Who was at the door?” Jalila asked, interrupting Sarah’s thoughts.

“Just a friend,” she said in Arabic. “You missed lunch. I’ll get you something.” She moved briskly past Dylan without looking at him. This was not happening again, she vowed to herself. No matter how many times he came out without a shirt on.

She couldn’t let anything distract her. This place was too dangerous.

And so was Dylan.