But the fate of her son hung in the balance.
She snapped her eyes open and forced her mind to take note of the details of the city of Tripoli. She’d decided that today would be the day. She would make a run for it today. She wasn’t waiting for Tanner to rescue her. She’d likely be dead before that happened. She was going home one way or another. Whatever they expected her to help them do that somehow involved Michal Arad, they could simply forget it. She was not a spy or an undercover operative. She was just Ami Donovan. The sooner they all realized that, the better off everyone would be.
She wouldn’t be able to see Robert again. A pang of hurt speared her. He had been good to her and her child. But she and Nicholas would have to disappear completely. It was the only way they would ever be safe. Ami flinched, startled, when Michal slid his arm around her waist. He glanced at her and somehow she managed to produce a convincing smile as they continued to stroll down the avenue.
Pay attention, she ordered. Details. She had to remember the details. Tripoli wasn’t that large even if it was the capital city. There was a quaint, palm-tree-lined port with boats, that was one option. And the airport they’d arrived at wasn’t that far away. She’d noticed the black-and-white taxis. She had a couple of options. All she needed was the right moment and a clear memory of the city’s myriad lanes that formed a mazelike pattern. It wouldn’t do her any good to escape only to get lost.
Tiny cafés and open-air workshops lined the wide avenue they traveled, which she presumed to be the main street. Skilled craftsmen worked at their trade. Ami slowed as they passed one who busily fashioned elaborate jewelry. The beat of his hammer kept a steady rhythm amid the voices and sounds of negotiating and conversation she couldn’t understand that carried on the air. The smell of welding mingled with the other more natural scents of the city.
The architecture fascinated her. Michal had told her that it had been influenced by various worlds over the centuries, Roman, Greek, Italian. Heavy wooden doors topped with rusty ironworks provided the only means of entry into the ancient-looking buildings painted varying shades of blue, yellow and brown. The merciless sun caressed the crumbling structures, highlighting the cracks and patches of time. Drying laundry served as makeshift shutters to the windows high above the street. Electrical wires wove a tangled web from house to house, a not so subtle reminder of the present. Barefoot children played in the streets. A dusty, beat-up car could be found here and there.
It took scarcely half an hour to travel the length of the city. They encountered numerous workshops and cafés, a disused Jewish school and well-kept mosques along the way. Turning to smile back at her as if he knew some secret, Michal led her into a mosque.
She felt a little breathless as she took in the expansive, dimly lit interior. Ancient pillars supported the vaulted ceiling of the deserted prayer room. It was so old. Ami was certain she’d never seen architecture this antiquated except for the day Michal had taken her into Marseilles. How could she have been exposed to the likes of this and not remember it?
Michal stroked a hand over one of the stone pillars, his own awe evident. “If only they could speak,” he said, amusement as well as something resembling wonder in his tone. “Roman mysteries, Byzantine feasts and Muslim prayers.” He sighed deeply. “The deep, dark history we could learn.”
Why would such a ruthless man care about history? Each day she learned something new from him…some part she hadn’t expected, didn’t want to know. Such as the tender way he’d held her last night with no demands of his own despite the readiness of his male body. She’d felt how much he wanted her…but he had deprived himself for her comfort.
A paradox, she decided.
Michal Arad was a paradox she was certain she could spend a lifetime exploring and never know all there was to be learned.
Just watching him move around the large room, touching the ancient walls and speaking so reverently, made her want to weep. It was as if they’d stepped back into time. Michal fit the part perfectly. The way his dark hair fell over his shoulders, the contrast of his dark skin against the white shirt. He looked as if he’d just stepped off a proud ship, exploring this seemingly desolate land for the first time and finding its hidden treasure. The walls built by human hands. Walls that bore the marks and the whispered echo of centuries of both good and evil.
As if seeing him for the first time, Ami knew at once that Michal Arad was very much like that. Despite the evil he had seen, had wielded even, something good still existed there. She could almost touch it.
“Does this place trouble you?”
His deep, sensual voice tugged her back to the present. He was standing close enough to touch her, smiling down at her as if he’d read her thoughts and was pleased by her conclusion.
She shook her head, suddenly too breathless to speak.
“Perhaps you only need nourishment.” He slid his arm around her waist and ushered her toward the exit. “Food would be good about now. I must leave in a few hours. You’ll stay at the hotel with Raoul. I would trust your safety to few others.”
“Why are you leaving me here?” On the deserted street, she stopped and peered up at him. Her heart picked up its pace for two reasons. She feared what this meant for him. But then, this could be her chance. Only one man would be guarding her. She knew Raoul. He seemed to like her. The hopeful part of her rejoiced…but that other part of her-a part Michal had touched far too deeply-worried that this was not a good thing. Where was he going? A mission? Something dangerous?
It was then and there that Ami realized just how much he cared for her. He stared deeply into her eyes and, for the first time, allowed her to see the depth of his emotions. He raised his hand and gently tucked an errant strand of hair behind her head covering. Another epiphany struck on the heels of the first one. This man was more dangerous than she first suspected. He held the power to tear her life apart, starting with her most vital organ…her heart.
“You are not to concern yourself. I will return for you in twenty-four hours. You have my word.”
Her anxiety crossed a whole new threshold. Before she could demand more answers, his mouth swooped down and captured hers. The heat and insistent pressure of his lips soon banished all other thought. It didn’t matter that they were standing in an empty street in a place where death lurked, especially for a woman, around every corner. There was only him and the way he kissed her, as savagely as a starving barbarian and yet with all the infinite finesse of a masterful lover.
It had to be the last time.
Ami knew at that instant that if she didn’t go now-today-she would never be able to leave him without telling him the truth.
The whole truth.
CHAPTER TEN
IN THE HOTEL, Ami relaxed on the bed, feigning interest in a French magazine. Michal had ordered issues of every fashion and beauty magazine available from the little tourist shop across the street, for the good it did since she didn’t know any of the languages. In their former life together she must have been multilingual, though she couldn’t imagine it now. Somehow, there had to be a mistake. Yes, she dreamed of him…or someone like him. Before Michal had yanked her into his world, she’d only sensed what the man in her dreams looked like. It wasn’t beyond the scope of reason that she might have subconsciously superimposed his image into her dreams after the abduction. In fact, if Robert were here, he would insist that was precisely the answer to her current dilemma.
She couldn’t possibly be this Amira Peres that Michal believed she was, or Jamie Dalton as the CIA insisted. Everything inside her stilled. The Israelis were wrong, as well. They were all wrong. She wasn’t even a shrink and that sounded foolish to her. How could everyone else be wrong?