She scrubbed her wrist over her eyes. “You know what I think?”
“It sure would be nice for you to tell me for a change, instead of making me guess.” Frustration chewed a fresh hole in his gut.
“Nice, love the sarcasm,” she said tightly. “Really helps maintain constructive lines of communication.”
“Constructive lines of communication?” His frustration reached the breaking point. “Could you just speak English?”
She sagged back against the wall next to a corny stock painting of an elephant. “I think you keep pushing me away because for some sad reason you seem to have decided no family is better than losing one again.”
Her words struck deep and true, but then that’s what happened with people who knew each other too well. “You’re one to talk with your expectations of a perfect family that doesn’t exist.”
He regretted the words the second they left his mouth, knowing they would cause her even more pain on a day that had already handed out too much. But he still believed every bit of it.
“You’re wrong,” she answered defiantly, snatching the kanga from the chair. “What about your friends from work and their wives? They’re happy and building great lives together.”
He didn’t even have to think. He already knew. “Give them time.”
Stella clutched the blue-and-green kanga to her chest and stared back at him with finality.
And pity.
“Jose, I really wish I’d had the chance to prove you wrong.” Turning her back on him, she wrapped the cloth around her, over her gun and vest.
The finality of her tone and the brace of her shoulders went beyond anger, beyond a regular fight. This was really it for her, and he knew it. They were over, no going back, no more making love or pretending they could keep living in limbo. There was nothing left for him but to keep her alive so she could go home and build that fantasy life with some other man.
***
One look at Annie, and Samir Al-Shennawi had a pretty good idea how the meeting with Stella went. He closed the door behind him, sealing him in the small interrogation room with Annie. He’d spent the past year reading every nuance of her face, both as her protector and as the man who loved her.
And today? He would have to continue as the man who protected her, here in a stark cubicle of a room at the airport. The agent in charge—Smith—wanted her tucked away until they had completed damage assessment. Meanwhile, Smith would keep things secure at the big shindig political dinner downtown.
He had his job keeping Annie safe here while the powers that be figured out where to relocate her.
Sam stopped alongside her. “Would you like to take a walk?”
Her wariness changed to surprise. “I thought I was under house arrest.”
“You are,” he confirmed, too aware of how she’d been keeping her distance. She may have told him everything, but she had still closed herself off from him. “But they need this space for questioning, and I found an unused office with an incredible view. I had food sent up for you. There is even a sofa if you need to rest.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “As if I have any choices these days.”
Neither of them did. He opened the door and gestured her through into the sparsely populated corridor. His hand rested over his weapon, his eyes tracking the length of the hallway. Transfers were always the most dangerous, even in a locked-down-tight facility. Four doors down, her room waited. Uniformed and armed military guards were stationed at every corner.
Those few steps seemed like miles as he escorted her past framed posters about touring historic Mogadishu. Her steps against tile seemed so dainty, so vulnerable. He understood she had training and could protect herself. During past missions, he had trusted female agents. But Annie wasn’t just any agent. After listening to her talk about her capture and what she’d endured, hearing her voice give life to facts he’d read…
He couldn’t let her out of his sight now. Maybe ever. Which made that emotional wall she had put up between them cursedly inconvenient.
A dozen steps later, he finally had her in the new room, one he’d chosen just for her to make this lockdown more bearable. During the past year, he’d made it his mission to learn everything about this fascinating woman. He knew she liked wide open spaces. Even at the school, she taught outdoors whenever possible.
So he’d picked this office with care. A wall of windows—bulletproof and tinted—overlooked the runway, but more importantly a distant view of the Indian Ocean.
She raced across the room and pressed her palms to the glass. Airport lights created a bubble of light in the dark night. Fireworks split the sky, just a few, more like amateur stuff before the big show at the end of the ceremonies later.
Her back rose and fell with deep breaths. “Thank you for bringing me here. I was about to scream from being stuck in that claustrophobic room.” She glanced over her shoulder. “But I’m guessing you knew that.”
He wanted to know more about her, everything and anything he needed to keep her safe. “I take it things did not go well with your daughter.”
“Not as I would have hoped, but as I predicted,” she said with a deep sadness in her eyes. “She forgives me but she’s upset, hurt, distrusting, and that’s completely her right. I didn’t expect hugs and tears.”