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Authors: Emmy Curtis
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She snapped her hand away from his and smiled brightly. And then she started to jabber. Badly. “I’m so glad you decided to come. I didn’t know if you would. But you can’t pass up a chance to taste Ain’s cooking. It’s divine. I swear if I could, I’d come to Iraq just to eat her food…”
He seemed amused for the first time. He smiled like an indulgent uncle. “Are you okay? Hypoglycemic perhaps?” he asked.
“Oh, shut up,” she said. She was pretty sure he laughed under his breath.
“Take a breath, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She wanted to ask, What? What was going to be okay? The dig? The evening? Their effed-up encounter? But they reached the truck and climbed in. Molly and James sat in the front row, leaving Harry and Matt to slide in the back.
With no air-conditioning, and just the open windows to provide ventilation, it was too noisy and windy to say much. Her thigh was plastered against Matt’s on the small seat, although if he closed his legs a little, they’d have their own space. But he didn’t. And as they bumped over rocks and holes in the road, he snaked his arm around her shoulders and kept her anchored to him. It was a good job, too. She was so annoyingly tiny that the slightest bump had her whacking her head on the roof of the truck. Another downside to Mueen’s truck not having seatbelts.
A frisson of excitement slid through her as he held her to him. Was he merely being chivalrous, or had he forgiven himself? She tentatively laid her hand on his large thigh, half helping her keep her balance over the bumps, and half… not. He didn’t seem to notice.
Okay
.
They arrived in good time, the traffic dwindling as they approached Mueen’s village. It was really just a small outcrop of brick houses in the middle of nowhere. Last time she came, they’d explained that this was the site of Ain’s father’s village, and his father’s, and as far as Ain could tell, her ancestors’ back to biblical times. So families had taken down the old huts, and old houses, and gradually built newer and newer ones. Keeping the tradition of the area, with the amenities of the twenty-first century.
Her last excavation had been twenty-five miles south of the village, and the local sheik had offered Mueen as her bodyguard, along with three other machine-gun-wielding men from another part of the region. Mueen had been the only one who spoke good English. It was lucky for her that this new project was close enough to Mueen that he could guard them again. And even nicer that the security situation had changed sufficiently that only one guard was necessary.
They arrived at the house just as the sun was sending its last rays of the day to illuminate the red tile roof.
Mueen led them in, through several rooms of the house until they were outside again. Cardamom spiced the air, and the scent took Harry right back to two years before, when she was here last. Ain was lighting incense and candles.
“Ain!” Harry said, and then gasped when the slender woman turned around and opened her arms. Though slender from the back, on turning, her belly protruded through her smock. She looked to be around seven months pregnant. “Oh my gosh. Congratulations!” Harry said, claiming her first hug. “Mueen didn’t say anything.”
“I know,
ma chérie
. I wanted it to be a surprise,” Ain said with her delightfully accented English. She’d been educated at the Sorbonne and sometimes lapsed into French, which Harry could just about keep up with. “I’m so happy you could come.”
“Wild horses wouldn’t have kept us away. I’m thrilled for you. When are you due?”
“In seven weeks. It will be an equinox baby.”
Molly interjected. “Oh, Ain. If we’d known you were pregnant, we wouldn’t have had you cooking for us, we would have taken you out somewhere.”
Her eyes sparkled as Mueen put his arm around her waist. “Exactly. You know my home is my kingdom. I prefer to be in charge
He seemed amused for the first time. He smiled like an indulgent uncle. “Are you okay? Hypoglycemic perhaps?” he asked.
“Oh, shut up,” she said. She was pretty sure he laughed under his breath.
“Take a breath, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She wanted to ask, What? What was going to be okay? The dig? The evening? Their effed-up encounter? But they reached the truck and climbed in. Molly and James sat in the front row, leaving Harry and Matt to slide in the back.
With no air-conditioning, and just the open windows to provide ventilation, it was too noisy and windy to say much. Her thigh was plastered against Matt’s on the small seat, although if he closed his legs a little, they’d have their own space. But he didn’t. And as they bumped over rocks and holes in the road, he snaked his arm around her shoulders and kept her anchored to him. It was a good job, too. She was so annoyingly tiny that the slightest bump had her whacking her head on the roof of the truck. Another downside to Mueen’s truck not having seatbelts.
A frisson of excitement slid through her as he held her to him. Was he merely being chivalrous, or had he forgiven himself? She tentatively laid her hand on his large thigh, half helping her keep her balance over the bumps, and half… not. He didn’t seem to notice.
Okay
.
They arrived in good time, the traffic dwindling as they approached Mueen’s village. It was really just a small outcrop of brick houses in the middle of nowhere. Last time she came, they’d explained that this was the site of Ain’s father’s village, and his father’s, and as far as Ain could tell, her ancestors’ back to biblical times. So families had taken down the old huts, and old houses, and gradually built newer and newer ones. Keeping the tradition of the area, with the amenities of the twenty-first century.
Her last excavation had been twenty-five miles south of the village, and the local sheik had offered Mueen as her bodyguard, along with three other machine-gun-wielding men from another part of the region. Mueen had been the only one who spoke good English. It was lucky for her that this new project was close enough to Mueen that he could guard them again. And even nicer that the security situation had changed sufficiently that only one guard was necessary.
They arrived at the house just as the sun was sending its last rays of the day to illuminate the red tile roof.
Mueen led them in, through several rooms of the house until they were outside again. Cardamom spiced the air, and the scent took Harry right back to two years before, when she was here last. Ain was lighting incense and candles.
“Ain!” Harry said, and then gasped when the slender woman turned around and opened her arms. Though slender from the back, on turning, her belly protruded through her smock. She looked to be around seven months pregnant. “Oh my gosh. Congratulations!” Harry said, claiming her first hug. “Mueen didn’t say anything.”
“I know,
ma chérie
. I wanted it to be a surprise,” Ain said with her delightfully accented English. She’d been educated at the Sorbonne and sometimes lapsed into French, which Harry could just about keep up with. “I’m so happy you could come.”
“Wild horses wouldn’t have kept us away. I’m thrilled for you. When are you due?”
“In seven weeks. It will be an equinox baby.”
Molly interjected. “Oh, Ain. If we’d known you were pregnant, we wouldn’t have had you cooking for us, we would have taken you out somewhere.”
Her eyes sparkled as Mueen put his arm around her waist. “Exactly. You know my home is my kingdom. I prefer to be in charge
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