Page 32 of Hired Husband

“I researched Egypt extensively before I came here,” he explained through a slightly clenched jaw. “I wanted to learn everything there was to know about the country, and that included its wildlife.”

“I’m impressed you care so deeply about my home,” I admitted, finishing up with the saline and some additional disinfectant before reaching for a bandage.

“I just like knowing where I am.”

“Well, I’m just glad you were here when I needed you.” I tied off the bandage and leaned closer to inspect my work, suddenly fighting the intense urge to press a little kiss to the top of it. “Thank you, Isaac.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice as soft as mine, but then he glanced toward the hallway. “I’m sorry about the mess in your closet.”

“Please.” I smiled. “You’re responsible for maybe one percent of that, and it’s not even really you. It’s the snake who should be sorry.”

He brought his eyes back to mine. Something quiet but weirdly intense passed between us. “I’m glad I was here when you needed me too, Jasmine. For as long as I’m in Egypt, feel free to call me for any snake-related emergencies.”

My heart skipped yet another beat and I averted my gaze, suddenly seeing that my hand was still resting on top of his arm where it’d been while I’d tied the bandage, but I didn’t move to pull it away. Isaac’s gaze followed mine, but he didn’t move either, both of us just sitting there for a minute, casually touching, and yet not moving or saying a word about it at all.

CHAPTER 13

ISAAC

There was a private jet waiting for me at the airstrip, which was ridiculous. While I’d flown private with one of the Westwoods a time or two, my usual means of air travel was either economy or business class, and even the latter was rare.

I hiked my laptop bag higher on my shoulder as I ascended the stairs, genuinely stoked about getting to fly in the equivalent of a five-star hotel suite. My late teens and college years might’ve been an endless struggle just trying to get by, but it looked like things were really turning around for the Thayer family.

There were cashmere blankets draped over reclining leather seats. Polished walnut tables. The legroom was insane and the coffee smelled expensive. Honestly, I could get used to this. Fast.

Especially when a flight attendant offered me a crystal tumbler as I settled into one of the oversized seats. I took it from her, glancing down to see two fingers of what was almost certainly the unaffordable scotch Basel seemed to keep stocked everywhere he went.

“Thank you.” I sent her a polite smile, doing my best to pretend that none of this was new to me, but seriously, I’d spent my early adult years surviving on ramen noodles, secondhand furniture, and elevating budgeting to an art form.

There was definitely something about sinking into a leather chair while drinking exceptionally expensive booze that made me feel like all my hard work had finally paid off. As I took a sip, I heard movement at the front of the plane, and when I looked up, Basel walked in.

“Isaac,” he said cheerfully, glancing at the glass in my hand. “Ah. I see our staff has been taking care of you.”

“They’ve been amazing.”

“I expect nothing less.” He smiled and lowered himself into the seat across from my mine, sliding a leather portfolio from underneath one arm. “I have the mock-ups of the design plans you’ve been working on with Joseph, and I have to say, I’m impressed.”

Relief trickled through me. Joseph was one of Basel’s lead architects and he and I had been working tirelessly on drafting plans for the Sharm El-Sheikh industrial complex. Today, hopefully, Basel would sign off on them and I could spend my time in the city refining rather than redesigning.

The same flight attendant appeared before he’d even buckled up, handing over another glass of scotch. “Mr. Saad.”

“Thank you, Vicky,” he said warmly, settling in before lifting those dark eyes back to mine and reaching for the portfolio. “You have done a wonderful job⁠—”

“I hope you didn’t start without me,” a feminine voice chimed from the front of the aisle.

When I looked up again, Jasmine had appeared. I blinked hard, surprised she’d be flying out with us. For some reason, I’d assumed she’d travel separately. Basel, I’d been expecting. We had those mock-ups to discuss, but not Jasmine. And the sight of her in white linen slacks and a fitted, pale pink T-shirt made me want to think about anything but work.

Her father, however, must’ve known she’d be catching a ride because he barely even glanced at her before he chuckled. “We wouldn’t dare, darling. Come. Sit. We have some business to finalize, but at least that gives you some time to relax before your duties as a tour guide commence.”

“Great. I could use a nap.” She dropped gracefully into the seat across the aisle from us and smiled at me, her gaze drifting down to the bandage on my forearm. “I see you survived the snake bite.”

I grinned. “It finally stopped stinging and the bite itself seems to be healing well, so I think it’s safe to assume I’ll be around to annoy you for a little while longer.”

“Pity,” she said, but she was still smiling as she settled back in her chair. “I’ll try to find a slightly more venomous one in the future.”

Basel glanced between us with a frown suddenly furrowing his brow. “What snake bite? What happened?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jasmine said, immediately turning to face him. “Isaac simply rescued me from a terrifying snake that decided to take up residence in my closet.”