Page 13 of Steel Vengeance

After bathing and washing the dust out of her hair, she got dressed. Appropriately, this time. That gold nightgown…Ugh. She’d practically been falling out of it, but it had been preferrable to sitting naked in front of him.

Luckily, he’d been too caught up in his simmering rage to notice what she’d been wearing. Or not wearing, as it turned out.

Cringing, she selected a safe, black skirt and a strappy top. If it was this hot back home, she’d be flouncing around in a bikini, but that clearly wasn’t an option here.

The one-bed apartment was a mess. She cleared up, putting her dirty clothes in a bag to wash, and moving the small table and two chairs from the kitchen to the bedroom. At least that way she’d have somewhere to sit, other than the bed.

She shook her head. Why was she bothering?

He wasn’t a guest. He was an enemy. An American soldier using her to get information about Omari. So, why was she so nervous?

To take her mind off his imminent arrival, she unpacked the groceries and set about making a stew. Working over the stove made her hot again, so she splashed some water on her face and took a few deep breaths.

Where was he?

The sun had almost set, yet there was no sign of him.

She switched on the bedside lamp and the room was cast in a rosy glow, enhanced by the red electric signage on the building opposite. Too anxious to eat, she saved the stew for later and paced up and down the dimly lit room, waiting for his broad shadow to appear at the window.

An hour later.

It was pitch dark outside now, save for the flickering red light. Her handler would be expecting her surveillance update. She picked up her laptop and placed it on the table. It was fully charged, as was her phone. Connecting to the internet, she sent off a quick message. Nothing new to report.

He hadn’t replied to last night’s email, which had included the photographs of the three Afghan men. She wondered what her superiors would make of the three men from across the border.

Jeremy never responded. His job was to forward anything of interest on to his boss. Was that Matthew? She wasn’t sure. The man who’d recruited her had been vague about his position at the agency.

Another excruciating hour passed, and Sloane’s stomach growled. It was getting late, and she was tired and hungry. Well, she wasn’t waiting any longer.

Perhaps he’d changed his mind and wasn’t coming?

She ignored the pang of regret that flashed over her. That was a hunger pang. Nothing more. It was better for her if he didn’t come. She could go back to doing her job without having to report to him anymore.

Sloane helped herself to some vegetable stew, eating quickly in case he arrived while she was busy, but she needn’t have worried. He didn’t show.

After supper, she washed up, made herself a cup of peppermint tea, and settled down to read. But the words floated in front of her. Still no soldier.

She frowned. Maybe something had happened to him. Perhaps he’d been called away. It struck her how little she actually knew about him. He’d been tight-lipped, while she’d sung like a canary. It was embarrassing!

Who did he work for? The U.S. government? Or did he have his own agenda? There was something rogue and untamed about him. He didn’t strike her as a man adhering to the rules.

Sloane yawned. It was now nearly ten o’clock and she was battling to keep her eyes open. Should she even try? He wouldn’t come now, would he? Not at this late hour.

At half past ten she turned out the light. If he couldn't stick to their arrangement, neither would she. It didn’t matter to her. What did she care if she didn’t see the broad-shouldered, wild-haired, grizzly bear of a man again?

Yet, it was with this image in her head that she drifted off to sleep.

A soft scraping sound wokeher, followed by a low creak and a cool breeze. Someone was in the room! Before she had time to react, a giant hand clamped down over her mouth.

She cried out in fright, but it came out as a muffled murmur. Panicking, she tossed her head from side to side, but the hand held firm. She lashed out, trying to push her attacker away, but it was like shoving against a brick wall. Solid and unyielding.

Her heart raced as all kinds of horrors rushed through her mind. Was she being attacked? Was it Omari’s men? Had they found out who she was?

“Shh…” a deep voice hissed.

She recognized that low, growling baritone. It washim.

Thank God.