Page 46 of Rescuing You

But why? And did it matter right now? He had nearly died saving her.

She showered, thankful for the soap and shampoo that Michael must’ve brought.

There was only one towel, damp from her sister’s use. She lifted it to dry off and found a plastic shopping bag on the hook underneath filled with two sundresses and a package of ladies’ underwear. Jasmine had pulled out a pair, but there were several more.

Thoughtful. Like Germany Michael. As opposed to Iraq Michael, who was short-tempered and terrifying.

As she dressed and pulled a brush through her long hair, she pondered… Which was the real Michael Davis?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

With Leila in the other room, Michael dialed Splat.

Despite the hour, his old friend answered immediately. “What happened?”

“We were detained. We’re here now. And there’s another woman with us.”

That revelation was followed by a short pause. “Your transport into Europe is gone.”

Michael had figured that. “Can you still get us across the border?”

“You have papers for the second one?”

“Not yet.”

“Get me a photo first thing tomorrow. I’ll see what I can do.” The line disconnected, and Michael headed for the kitchen.

He’d bought a box of crackers and a container of hummus when he’d first arrived in Baghdad a few days before. He snacked while he waited.

Finally, Leila stepped out of the bedroom wearing one of the dresses he’d bought. He’d originally planned to buy pants and shirts, but there were so many styles and sizes and cuts, and after a few minutes in the department store, he’d given up in favor of pretty floral dresses, figuring he couldn’t screw those up too badly. Leila was small, so he’d grabbed smalls. Seemed pretty straightforward.

He’d had no idea how…shapely the dress would be.

She must’ve noticed him noticing because she paused after she closed the door, her cheeks turning pink. “It was this or those dirty sweatpants.”

“No. Yeah. It’s…” Wow. Almost enough to make him forget his irritation. He cleared his throat and shifted gears. “I bought pajamas too. But just the one…set.” Set? Pair? He couldn’t think straight. Where had his brain gone in the last thirty seconds?

“Jasmine must be wearing them.”

“She all right?”

“Sleeping.” Leila moved closer and reached for a cracker, then stopped and looked at him like he might deny her.

“Help yourself. There’re plenty.”

She took one, dipped it into the hummus, and ate.

“Hungry?” he asked, stupidly.

“Those…what are they called? REMs? Ready-to-eat meals?”

“Meals ready-to-eat. Wasn’t your favorite?”

She winced as if she could taste the food again. “You remember when you forced me to try haggis?”

“I didn’t force you.” He pictured her face twisting in disgust after she’d tried the Scottish meat pudding. They’d found a little pub outside the city, and maybe he’d put a little pressure on her. He might’ve used the word “coward.” She’d been too prideful to let that moniker stick.

“I had thought nothing could be worse,” she said. “Those MREs—is that what you feed criminals in America? I think that is…what is the expression? Cruel and unusual punishment?”