she’d trusted him.
“Damn.” He vanished in a violent shockwave as if lightning struck and destroyed the foundations of her home.
“My prison,” Cali said.
It wasn’t just Solomon’s curse that locked her away. It was her own inability to trust.
Chapter Eight
Cali dressed in the casual jeans and drip-dry shirt of a tourist, slipped her feet into sandals and tied her hair in a jaunty ponytail. She didn’t feel jaunty.
It was over a week since Andrew had kissed her—done more than kiss her.
He hadn’t spoken to her since.
Not that she’d tried to speak to him. No, it was better that they not trust each other. They were on opposite sides. Andrew wanted to save David and she’d vowed to kill him. She wouldn’t break her vow for an impossibly sexy angel. Life was about survival, not indulgence.
Desire would fade. She would cease waking up aching.
What she needed was to finish with David, but for that, he needed to make a wish and currently he was too distracted to do so. Miriam was complicating everyone’s lives.
Her plan today was to convince Miriam to leave. Then Cali could take out David.
It was barely dawn, but if Miriam followed her usual custom, she’d be sitting outside watching the sunrise. David kept the restored castle locked, so Miriam sat on bare rock on the next highest ground and watched the day come alive.
“Good morning.” She greeted Cali cheerfully and nodded toward the castle. “Come to look at the latest wonder of the world? The locals say a djinni restored it overnight.”
“Do they?” Cali had counted on Miriam’s friendliness to strike up a conversation, but it still disconcerted her. A woman who had seen as many horrors as the doctor ought to be less friend-of-all-the-world.
“They’re probably all in the secret.” Miriam laughed. “Enjoying the surge in visitor numbers. I suspect David—he’s the man who owns the castle and the nearby house—still has workmen inside finishing the interior renovations. He keeps the castle doors locked so tight.”
“Have you seen any workmen?” Cali sat on another rock and frowned at the castle. With the rising sun striking it and drawing warm colors from the stone, its restoration looked to be one of her better projects. The rock that had nearly killed David still lay by the entrance.
“No, no workmen.” Miriam leaned forward, sharing a secret. “I’m putting my money on a secret tunnel, either from the village or the beach. A smugglers’ tunnel.”
“Do you think David Saqr built it?” Cali asked.
The laughter fled Miriam’s face. She hooked a knee up on her rock seat and laced her fingers around it. “Are you a journalist?”
“No. Nor an ex-girlfriend. I’ve just heard stories.”
“About arms-running and death-dealing.” Miriam didn’t make it a question. She sighed. “I remember him when he was a boy. He was a hero to me.”
Cali stared. Andrew had denied Miriam ever had a case of hero worship on David. It seemed even an angel could be wrong.
“We grew up in the same town. I played with his sister Fatima. When I was eleven there was an earthquake…both our families died. David found me. He dug me out of the rubble and carried me to the hospital. I went to America, to my uncle, and David…”
“He went to hell,” Cali supplied.
Miriam’s generous mouth compressed. “David was seventeen, alone and determined to survive. I remember his and Fatima’s dad. Mr. Saqr was kind and honorable, a gentle man. David could be, too.” She waved her hands, searching for words, then clapped her hands softly together. “Disasters change people. I work in crisis situations. I’m a doctor. I’ve seen incredible heroism and devastating betrayal. The best and worst of what people can be. The loss of his family made David determined never to be vulnerable again. But the truth is we’re all vulnerable, all of the time. It is truly ‘God willing.’ I need David to understand it’s okay to
“Damn.” He vanished in a violent shockwave as if lightning struck and destroyed the foundations of her home.
“My prison,” Cali said.
It wasn’t just Solomon’s curse that locked her away. It was her own inability to trust.
Chapter Eight
Cali dressed in the casual jeans and drip-dry shirt of a tourist, slipped her feet into sandals and tied her hair in a jaunty ponytail. She didn’t feel jaunty.
It was over a week since Andrew had kissed her—done more than kiss her.
He hadn’t spoken to her since.
Not that she’d tried to speak to him. No, it was better that they not trust each other. They were on opposite sides. Andrew wanted to save David and she’d vowed to kill him. She wouldn’t break her vow for an impossibly sexy angel. Life was about survival, not indulgence.
Desire would fade. She would cease waking up aching.
What she needed was to finish with David, but for that, he needed to make a wish and currently he was too distracted to do so. Miriam was complicating everyone’s lives.
Her plan today was to convince Miriam to leave. Then Cali could take out David.
It was barely dawn, but if Miriam followed her usual custom, she’d be sitting outside watching the sunrise. David kept the restored castle locked, so Miriam sat on bare rock on the next highest ground and watched the day come alive.
“Good morning.” She greeted Cali cheerfully and nodded toward the castle. “Come to look at the latest wonder of the world? The locals say a djinni restored it overnight.”
“Do they?” Cali had counted on Miriam’s friendliness to strike up a conversation, but it still disconcerted her. A woman who had seen as many horrors as the doctor ought to be less friend-of-all-the-world.
“They’re probably all in the secret.” Miriam laughed. “Enjoying the surge in visitor numbers. I suspect David—he’s the man who owns the castle and the nearby house—still has workmen inside finishing the interior renovations. He keeps the castle doors locked so tight.”
“Have you seen any workmen?” Cali sat on another rock and frowned at the castle. With the rising sun striking it and drawing warm colors from the stone, its restoration looked to be one of her better projects. The rock that had nearly killed David still lay by the entrance.
“No, no workmen.” Miriam leaned forward, sharing a secret. “I’m putting my money on a secret tunnel, either from the village or the beach. A smugglers’ tunnel.”
“Do you think David Saqr built it?” Cali asked.
The laughter fled Miriam’s face. She hooked a knee up on her rock seat and laced her fingers around it. “Are you a journalist?”
“No. Nor an ex-girlfriend. I’ve just heard stories.”
“About arms-running and death-dealing.” Miriam didn’t make it a question. She sighed. “I remember him when he was a boy. He was a hero to me.”
Cali stared. Andrew had denied Miriam ever had a case of hero worship on David. It seemed even an angel could be wrong.
“We grew up in the same town. I played with his sister Fatima. When I was eleven there was an earthquake…both our families died. David found me. He dug me out of the rubble and carried me to the hospital. I went to America, to my uncle, and David…”
“He went to hell,” Cali supplied.
Miriam’s generous mouth compressed. “David was seventeen, alone and determined to survive. I remember his and Fatima’s dad. Mr. Saqr was kind and honorable, a gentle man. David could be, too.” She waved her hands, searching for words, then clapped her hands softly together. “Disasters change people. I work in crisis situations. I’m a doctor. I’ve seen incredible heroism and devastating betrayal. The best and worst of what people can be. The loss of his family made David determined never to be vulnerable again. But the truth is we’re all vulnerable, all of the time. It is truly ‘God willing.’ I need David to understand it’s okay to
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