‘What? You think everything would suddenly be better if I relived it all?’ Sharp anger rose. He knew nothing about it! She’d been through it all multiple times in counselling.
‘It seems to me you’re reliving it anyway. How often do you dream of Imran?’
Like air rushing from a punctured balloon, Jacqui’s ire bled away. No matter how she tried to escape, the memories crowded back. Memories of that day, the doom-laden sense of guilt and regret, rather than recollections of her friend alive and happy.
She shook her head, hunching her shoulder.
‘Jacqueline!’
‘What?’ She met his stare, striving for defiance and finding only pain. She pulled air into her tight lungs. He refused to back down.
‘Have you seen a dead body, Asim?’
He nodded.
‘Have you ever seen someone blown apart by a bomb?’ She snatched another breath, the movement jagging pain through her chest. ‘What about a street full of debris, where it’s hard to make out what used to be people? Living, breathing people who just seconds before were—’ Her next breath was a sob and she stopped, sinking her teeth into her lip, trying to fight the trembling that radiated from somewhere deep inside.
‘I’ve seen that too,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s unspeakable.’
Jacqui’s gaze lifted to his and held. She saw old pain and anger, and something that made her feel suddenly not so alone.
‘But you weren’t responsible,’ she murmured. Asim was a protector, a statesman, a man who worked for peace in his region.
‘Nor were you.’
Jacqui’s eyes blurred. ‘I led him into it. It was my fault. I had the scoop. I should have checked it out before dragging him in.’
‘Why? So it could have been you lying there in a bomb crater and not Imran? How would that be better?’
Jacqui yanked at his hold but Asim’s grip was implacable.
‘Imran has people who grieve for him. Your grandmother, you. People who—’
‘And you think no one would miss you?’
She lifted her shoulders, trying to imagine the reaction of her parents and half-siblings if she’d died. They’d have been shocked but would they really have missed her?
‘You’re wrong, habibti.’ A strong hand cupped her face, lifting it till she stared into stormy eyes. ‘We’d miss you—Samira and my grandmother and me. And so would your family.’
Ridiculously Jacqui felt her lower lip tremble. She didn’t cry except in her sleep when the nightmares devoured her. Yet Asim’s tenderness unplugged the dam of grief she’d held at bay so long.
‘He had all his life ahead of him,’ she mumbled. ‘And it was snuffed out because of me. I should have taken precautions—’
‘Listen to me.’ Asim leaned closer, his breath warm on her face. ‘It wouldn’t matter what precautions you’d taken. Imran was his own man. He’d have been there with you if there was a chance of a scoop. He lived for his job.’
His thumb grazed her bottom lip and she swallowed at the tenderness of the gesture.
‘You think I don’t know that? He was my friend.’
‘But you didn’t know him intimately.’
Jacqui peered up at Asim, trying to read his expression. ‘If you’re asking whether we were lovers, the answer is no.’
He shook his head. ‘I wondered that when you first arrived, but as soon as we made love I realised that wasn’t the case. You were a virgin, weren’t you?’
Jacqui frowned. ‘Did it matter?’ She’d lied so he wouldn’t stop. Because she’d wanted more than anything to be one with him. Her mouth flattened. If only sex was all she wanted from Asim. If only life were so simple.
‘It mattered that you shared something precious with me, Jacqueline. Something to be treasured.’
The gleam in his eyes unnerved her.
‘You were talking about your cousin,’ she said briskly.
For long seconds she thought he wouldn’t accept the change of subject. Finally he spoke. ‘I meant merely that you didn’t know Imran as intimately as someone who’d grown up with him.’
Asim’s mouth curved reminiscently. ‘Let me tell you about my cousin. He could climb before he could walk and he never walked when he could run. His nickname in the family was “Trouble” because he was always in strife. Luckily he had nine lives, like a cat, because he was regularly falling off roofs or down wells or under horses. He took risks others wouldn’t.’
‘Even you?’ Jacqui couldn’t imagine Asim being left behind by his cousin.
‘I never seemed to collect the injuries Imran did.’