Read Online Valentine Babies (Holiday Babies Series) by Mona Risk - Free Book Online Page B

stowed her suitcases in the trunk of
an army Jeep and opened the back door for her. She slid in and he sat beside
her.
    Steve settled in the front. “Just relax,” he said. “Joe will
take a longer route to avoid dangerous areas.”
    “Whatever you guys decide. I haven’t been here for a long
time and have lost track of recent events.”
    Brian exchanged phone numbers with her and insisted she put
theirs on speed dials, then he related the latest news, insurgency activities
and terrorist attacks with no apparent emotion. The local sectarian violence
had become a daily occurrence she’d forgotten about in the last few weeks of
her cozy life in the States. Steve updated her on important changes at the
local KNR station and reporters’ moves while the Jeep careened along the
heavily fortified Baghdad Airport Road.
    Instead of crossing the Tigris River that Nabil had shown
her, Joe veered into a smaller street, and often turned into back roads she’d
never seen. After a last check at the address on the paper she’d given him, he
glanced at the GPS map. “We’re almost there.”
    The partly dilapidated building etched in her memory
suddenly loomed in front of her. She cringed. Bittersweet reminiscences swept through
her mind. Nabil’s cheerful voice, his small nephew’s babbling and giggling, and
the mother’s generous hospitality.
    Anxiety clenched her heart. How would the senior Diabs
receive her?
    Joe jumped out of the Jeep and held the door open for her.
“I need the suitcase with the red ribbon,” she instructed. Brian retrieved it
for her.
    “Which floor?” He kept the heavy piece in his hand.
    “The Diabs live on the third floor. You don’t have to—”
    “Let’s go.” Brian preceded her to the dark marble stairs
that had seen better times, and Steve followed them.
    “I’ll wait in the car,” Joe declared.
    They had specific instructions to protect her. There was no
need for protection while in her friends’ apartment, but she didn’t try to
protest. A lump the size of an orange settled in her throat as she carefully
climbed the chipped steps and glanced at the corner where Nabil had kissed her
the first time.
    Why on earth had she flirted with him? Why had she allowed
him to believe she returned his feelings? Was it admiration for the dashing
officer? Pity for the dire life he led?
    Guilt rushed over her like a tidal wave as she reached the
landing of the third floor and stared at the wooden door.
    Brian pushed a button and stepped behind her. The bell rang.
Footsteps shuffled on the floor and a female voice talked in Arabic.
    The door opened. Leila smiled to her ears and threw her arms
around Roxanne’s neck. “Roxy, my dear friend. Marhaba , welcome. You came
again. You are an angel. Come, come inside. You too, sirs. I will have coffee
ready and pastry for you. Have a seat.” Leila’s Arabic accent chimed with
warmth and joy.
    Roxanne introduced the men and they followed her into the
living room. “Wow,” Brian exclaimed at the sight of the Aubusson chairs, cherry
wood tables, and gilded frames. “I feel like I’m in a palace.”
    “It’s all they have left of their wealthy past,” Roxanne
explained in a low voice. “It was a luxurious building, but a bomb destroyed
one of its corners. There’s no one to repair or maintain it anymore.”
    Steve kept glancing at the gorgeous brunette with big
chocolate eyes and dark hair cascading down her back. He lowered his gaze then
shifted it back to her, studying every one of her moves. “I’ll have an Arabic
coffee if you please, Miss Leila. Can I help you carry the tray?”
    Roxanne bit her tongue. She’d never seen the devil-may-care
Steve so polite and courteous, almost timid.
    Leila blushed prettily. “No thank you. I can handle it.”
    “ Roxanna, habibty . My darling, marhaba ,
welcome.” A heavy woman walked in, her arms wide-open, and hugged her. “You are
back.”
    “How are you doing, Aunt Marie? And how is Uncle