Seduced by His Target (12 page)

“But what about Leila? I can’t abandon her here.” Not to mention the innocent people who could die in the attack.

“Forget Leila.”

“And let some jungle quack massacre her face?”

Rasheed closed the distance between them. He stood directly before her, his eyes holding hers. “You’ve done what you could. You told me you tried to convince her, but she’d made her choice. You don’t owe her more than that.”

Didn’t she? “Would you leave her if you were in my place?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. They both knew he’d stay.

“You still have to go,” he finally said, his voice firm.

“But—”

“For God’s sake, Nadine. Listen to me. Your life is in danger. This is your only chance to get away.”

“It’s not just because of Leila.” She dragged in a breath, needing him to understand. “She’s important, but I need to stay for myself, too. I told you. I can’t run anymore. I’ve been hiding from my family for fifteen years. You have no idea what it’s like living under a death threat—always worrying that they’ll find me, always having to run. They’re always there in the back of my mind, shadowing everything I do.

“I have to escape them, Rasheed. I have to end this thing for good, no matter how it turns out. It’s my only chance to lead a normal life. I can’t keep living like this, with this constant paranoia weighing on my mind. They’re like ghosts trapped inside my head.”

His jaw worked. His eyes darkened even more. And all of a sudden, she saw it again, that flash of remembered pain.

“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice stripped bare. “I know exactly what that’s like.”

Her heart rolled, the anguish in his voice sparking something inside her, the deep-seated need to pull this wounded man close and soothe his pain.

Instead, he turned away. Trembling, shaken by the misery he’d revealed, she gathered up several more supplies and followed him to the door. And suddenly, she was sure of one thing. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Maybe he wasn’t ready to confide in her.

But before this ordeal was over, she intended to find out what haunted this lonely man.

Chapter 8

N
adine stepped out of the clinic late the following morning, then blinked in the brilliant sunshine, feeling vaguely disoriented after operating on her sister-in-law. Her back ached. Her leg muscles quivered from fatigue. The two-hour operation had sapped her of all her energy, the acute focus it demanded now spiraling toward a major crash. It hadn’t helped to have her brother hovering over her shoulder, watching every move—or worse, having to keep her eye on the jungle doctor so he didn’t overdose Leila with anesthesia and cause her even more harm.

Her ever-present guard emerged from the clinic’s shadow. Resigned to the constant surveillance, she massaged her gritty eyes with a sigh and started down the steps. Then she caught sight of Rasheed leaning against a palm tree beside the path, and her pulse ramped up. He straightened and padded toward her, the raw angles of his face, the power in his fluid strides causing every part of her to spring back to life.

Lord, but he was attractive. There was something about him that thoroughly demolished her senses, appealing to her in a decidedly primal way. His gaze connected with hers, the quick punch of heat generating an avalanche of sensual impressions, flashbacks of his touch and taste and smell.

He shifted his gaze to the guard. “I’m supposed to take over here. They want you to go to the airstrip and help unload a plane.”

“That’s not what I was told.”

Rasheed shrugged. “Then call them and check.”

Frowning, the guard pulled out his radio. After a brief conversation, he nodded to Rasheed and walked away.

“How did you manage that?” she asked when the guard was out of earshot.

“Lucky timing,” he said, his low-pitched voice rumbling through her chest. “A big shipment of paste is coming in, and they’re shorthanded. Since I speak English, Manzoor suggested I stay with you.”

Shaking her head at his effect on her, she walked with him down the flagstone path. Just one penetrating look, one husky word, and memories of that kiss kept swirling through her, making it impossible not to react.

“So how did the operation go?” he asked.

“Good. She’s in recovery now.”

He tilted his head, his perceptive eyes studying her. “Are you all right? You look tired.”

“I am tired.” Although the infusion of adrenaline she’d experienced at the sight of him had given her another boost. “I always feel drained after surgery.”

His gaze held hers for another heartbeat. Then he motioned toward another path. “Come on. I know a place on the beach where we can sit and talk without being heard.”

“Are you sure?” She spotted a guard patrolling the pathway behind the clinic and frowned. “Won’t the others notice if we’re gone?”

“Not right away. I think we can spare a few minutes. And I don’t want to risk using your cottage until we sweep it for bugs.”

She hadn’t thought of that. “All right.”

“This way.” Moving quickly, he led her down an overgrown path between the trees. A bird took flight as they hurried by. A gecko ran across the dirt and darted into a patch of ferns. Nadine pushed aside a branch obstructing her way, her thoughts still lingering on Rasheed. And she had to admit that it wasn’t only his looks that appealed to her, although they definitely played a part. Every time he entered her vicinity, her composure became unhinged.

But what intrigued her even more was the fierce intelligence in his black eyes, those glimpses of inner pain, his absolute determination to stop the terrorists, no matter what the personal toll. He both fascinated and disturbed her, making her yearn to know more.

“So what did you do for Leila?” he asked as the path widened and they walked abreast again.

Not enough.
Forcing her thoughts back to the surgery, she released a sigh. “I ended up using a combination implant, one that covers the malar and submalar areas.” She pointed to her face to explain. “That way I could give her cheekbones projection and correct the sunken look in her midface. I couldn’t do anything about the nerve damage, though. She needs to see a neurologist about that. But she’ll look a little better, at least for now.”

“Won’t the implants last?”

“They should. But if Sultan hits her again...” She shrugged. “All I can do is correct her physical problems. I can’t change her life.”

He shot her an assessing gaze. “That must get discouraging.”

She couldn’t deny that. It broke her heart when the victims returned to their abusers, and the cycle started again. “Sometimes it seems pointless,” she admitted. “But I still have to do what I can.”

Trying not to dwell on that depressing thought, she tugged in a breath, filling her lungs with the fresh sea air. The sound of the waves began to grow louder as they neared the beach.

“So why did Leila marry your brother if he treats her like that?” Rasheed asked after a moment.

“She didn’t have any choice. The marriage was arranged. She was an orphan, and her guardian owed my father money, I think. I don’t remember the details exactly.” She’d had her own problems to deal with back then. “But I think the marriage was part of the arrangement they made to pay off the loan.”

“That sounds barbaric.”

“It
is
barbaric. Women are property to men like him. And Leila was pretty. She had those typical Persian cheekbones.” Or at least she did before Sultan ruined her face.

Rasheed turned his head. “That’s unusual, isn’t it—an Iranian marrying a Jaziirastani?”

“Not really.” But she knew what he meant. Jaziirastan and Iran were ancient enemies, neighboring countries whose border was in perpetual dispute. Even now they were political rivals, both vying for dominance in the Middle East.

“Intermarriage isn’t that uncommon in the border areas. Not as much as you’d think. And I doubt my brother cared where she came from. She was pretty, and he needed a wife.”

The path came to an end in a grove of casuarina pine trees. Beyond the trees was the sandy beach. “Over here.” Taking the lead again, he walked to a wooden bench in the shade of the wispy pines.

She settled on the bench beside him, fallen needles carpeting the sand beneath her feet. Then she gazed out at the turquoise water, the electric greens and blues dazzling her eyes. The beach wound along the shore, a blinding white streak against the azure sky, a true tropical paradise.

And for the first time since her ordeal began, the tension knotting her shoulders began to unwind. She’d been so incredibly scared during the kidnapping, so worried about helping Henry, so terrified at facing her brother again that it felt good to relax for once—no matter how brief the respite.

Rasheed bent down and picked up a tiny pinecone, then tossed it across the sand. “So what’s next for Leila?”

She turned her mind to her sister-in-law again. “She’s not out of danger yet. I’ll go back after lunch to check on her. I have to watch for bleeding and infection, at least for the first few days. She’ll be uncomfortable for about a week after that, until the swelling goes down.”

“So the surgery’s painful?”

“It’s not fun—not something I’d go through to please a monster like Sultan.” She made a face. “Of course, it’s not just battered women who have cosmetic surgery. It always amazes me the lengths people will go to just to look a certain way.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re already beautiful.”

She laughed at that. “Hardly.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, come on. You must know how you look.”

Her face warmed. She knew she had nice, symmetrical features. And her unusual eye color made her stand out. “I guess I’m okay.”

“Okay?” His gaze traveled over her face, the intensity in his eyes making her belly do a somersault. “You’re a hell of a lot more than just
okay.
”

The gravel in his voice made her pulse leap. The heat in his gaze held her immobile, making it impossible to draw a breath. Her heart thundering, she skimmed the beard shadow emerging on his jaw, the slight fullness of his lower lip, the craggy hollows of his lean face. And the memory of his kiss came back in a crazy rush—the heat, the delirium, the need.

Her pulse going haywire, she looked away. She was glad that he found her attractive. God knew, she was having a terrible time resisting him. But even if they wanted to take this maddening need to another level, they couldn’t risk it. They had way too much at stake.

“I don’t put much stock in physical beauty,” she explained. “It’s more a handicap than an asset.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because if you’re pretty, that’s all men see. Beautiful women are objects to them, something they want to acquire. If I’d been plainer, if I’d had a different nose or eyes, my father wouldn’t have cared so much about marrying me off. But he saw me as a commodity, an object he could trade to increase his power.”

“Nadine, nobody who knows you could think you’re only a pretty face.”

Her heart tumbled again, his words loosening something inside her, a need she’d repressed for years.
The deep-down need to connect.
“My father and brother do.”

“Yeah, well, they’re Neanderthals.” A smile slashed his face, and everything inside her stilled. Grim-faced, he made her pulse race. But when he smiled...the crinkle of his dark eyes, the flash of his white teeth against his swarthy skin, the wicked slant of his sexy grin made every feminine part of her burst to life.

“I’m surprised you became a plastic surgeon,” he continued. “Considering what you think about beauty.”

Still slightly breathless, she tore her gaze away. “I know. It’s complicated.” As complicated as her feelings for him.

Determined to compose herself, she fastened her gaze on the gorgeous sea. Seagulls swooped and dived for fish. The small waves curled and boomed to shore, a million drops of water sparkling in the midday sun. A container ship dotted the horizon, sailing north toward the United States. “My mother had a lot to do with it.”

“You two were close?” he guessed.

Nodding, she closed her eyes. The sun warmed her face and arms. The breeze whispered offshore, tousling her hair. Sitting beside Rasheed, with his hard arm brushing hers, and the rhythmic pull of the waves filling the air, it was so darned tempting to forget the world, forget the evil men lurking nearby, forget the violence of her dreadful past. But she could never escape the harsh reality of her life. The fact that her father had found her proved that.

“I never would have become a doctor if it weren’t for my mom. She knew it was my dream. And she knew my father would never let me go to medical school, that I’d eventually have to escape. So she put away money for me. When I found out...it really tore me up at first.” She’d been a total mess inside, plagued by the worst kind of guilt. “If she hadn’t saved that money for me, if she’d spent it on her medical care instead, maybe she would have survived.”

“You don’t know that. And even if it’s true, she made that choice. Parents who love their kids sacrifice for them. That’s what they do.”

“I know.” It had taken her a while, but she’d finally reconciled herself to her mother’s choice. “But I still felt that I owed it to her to fulfill my potential. I didn’t want to waste her sacrifice.”

“And that’s why you help others now.”

She glanced down the beach. A guard had begun walking toward them, but he was still a hundred yards off. She lifted her gaze to Rasheed’s. “What was your childhood like?”

“Normal, I guess. My parents were Jaziirastani immigrants, and I was their only child. They were linguists. They both taught at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey. That’s where I grew up—in California. They worked hard and were grateful to live in the States. They taught me to appreciate the freedom we have.”

“But you felt safe.”

“Sure.”

“Well, I didn’t. I grew up in an abusive family. You can’t imagine how bad that is. I watched my father beat my mother. We were terrified and always on edge. And the constant threat of violence, the hyperalertness you live with in a house like that...you never really overcome it. It affects how you think, who you are, what you do.

“I was too young to help my mother. And I couldn’t stop my brother from mistreating his wife. But I still wanted to fight back. These women...these victims of domestic abuse...the surgery isn’t really about beauty. It’s about restoring their self-esteem. I figure if I can ease their suffering, if I can help restore their appearance and feelings of self-worth, maybe it’ll encourage them to take charge of their lives.”

He picked up her hand. He threaded his fingers through hers, the rough warmth of his skin a balm to her soul. He gave her hand a squeeze, the spontaneous gesture more soothing than any words could ever be.

“And that’s why you changed your name?”

Impressed that he understood, she met his eyes. “Nadira brings back too many bad memories. I’m not that helpless child anymore. I’ve left that repressive lifestyle for good.”

For a minute neither spoke. Then Rasheed released her hand and looked away. She tipped her face toward the sun again, delighting in the warmth on her skin. And suddenly she realized why Rasheed had brought her to this spot. He’d noticed her exhaustion and wanted to help her relax.

She slipped him a sideways glance, thrown abruptly off balance again. Who was this enigmatic man? How could someone so violent be so compassionate, too? How could he be willing to fight Amir one moment and show her tenderness the next? He kept poking holes in her preconceptions, forcing her to constantly reassess her opinion of him.

She’d always divided men into two distinct camps—good and bad, gentle and violent. Those who lived peaceful lives and those who attacked. And by most measures, Rasheed fell in the latter group.

Except...he wasn’t bad. Despite his violent lifestyle, he kept protecting her. He kept blurring those rigid lines, muddling the black-and-white world she’d constructed to keep herself safe, turning her impression of men on end.

“So what happened when you ran away?” he asked.

She met his gaze again. She never talked about those days. The threat of discovery had always been too high. Once she’d become Nadine Seymour, she’d left every trace of her former life behind.