Striving for emotional distance, he catalogued what he saw. She was the same as in the photos his investigators had sent. Yet she wasmore.
Regular features in a face that was long rather than round. Fine lips. Even finer eyes. Eyes that watched his every move with an intensity he felt as a sizzle in his veins. Even the faint shadows of tiredness didn’t mar her attractiveness. The hair he’d remembered as pale was platinum-blonde, pulled back and up in a chignon that left her face clear. But why would she hide those cheekbones? She wasn’t classically beautiful, yet he defied any man not to take a second look.
Even in a plain white blouse and black trousers Tori Nilsson drew the eye.
That explained his racing pulse. That and the intimate secret they shared.
For a second his attention lingered on those breasts, quickly rising and falling against her blouse. They seemed plumper than he remembered—
‘Can you sit, instead of towering over me?’
Ashraf huffed back laughter.Therewas the woman he remembered. Indomitable and practical. How lucky he’d been not to be stuck with a hysterical companion that night.
He pulled out a chair and sat knee to knee with her.
‘You’re really real.’
Slim fingers skimmed shakily over his cheek, down his freshly shaved jaw, and two things struck him.
First, no one these days ever touched him. He’d been busy in the last two years and it had been a long time since he’d had a lover. Plus his position meant that casual touching was out of the question.
Second, her hand shook. Perhaps he’d been unfair, confronting her like this with no warning. But he hadn’t known she’d believed him dead. If he’d realised...
No, even if he’d known he’d still have wanted to see her in person.
‘Yes. I’m real.’
He captured her hand, feeling the quick pulse throb at her wrist. At the same time he registered a hint of scent. Something sweet and enticing, slightly citrusy. It transported him to that night they’d been captives together. He couldn’t recall noticing it then, but at some subliminal level he must have. It both enticed and disturbed him, reminding him of how close they’d come to death, and how he’d allowed himself to weaken in this woman’s arms.
He released her hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Satiny skin trembled at his touch and made his blood fizz.
He’d assumed his physical response to Tori had been fuelled by danger, by the knowledge that he might die. Was this just a hangover from that night? That had to be it.
But he wasn’t here for sex.
Ashraf dropped his hand and sat back.
* * *
‘How did you get away? I heard gunfire. I thought—’
Tori bit her lip, hearing the wobble in her voice. Clearly she’d thought wrong—so why was she upset? Seeing Ash again was a miracle. One she’d never dared hope for. Her reaction had to be due to shock.
‘You thought they’d shot me?’ His eyebrows rose and then he nodded. ‘I’m sure they wish they had. You heard security forces storming the camp. Qadri, the bandits’ leader, had just arrived. He was killed in the raid with several of his followers. The rest are serving time for various offences—including kidnap.’
The words sounded matter-of-fact. Like a news report of some distant, almost unreal incident. But the sound of those guns had been brutal reality for Tori for too long. She strove to absorb Ash’s news but couldn’t prevent a tremor of reaction.
‘I thought you were dead. I—’ She searched his face, even now finding it hard to believe he was there and whole. ‘What are youdoinghere? It’s an incredible coincidence.’
‘No coincidence, Tori. I’ve been looking for you.’ His voice was deep and assured.
‘You have?’
Ash sat straighter. ‘Of course! Did you imagine I’d forget about you? That I’d leave you to the mercy of people-smugglers?’
‘But it’s been fifteen months!’
His dark eyes flashed. ‘I’m not in the habit of forgetting my friends.’