Kinah came forward and grasped Fahran’s hand as the medevac landed, the blades whirling and kicking up dust clouds. “I’ll take care of him,” she called to them. “Be well, Emma. Brother, let me know how she is?”
Khalid nodded. Kinah had a military radio that was always on her person. Plus, the A-team that was stationed at the village could always be contacted to let her know the latest news. “I will, my sister.”
Once the medevac had shut down, Khalid led Emma to the open door. Welcoming hands ushered her into the helo. As Khalid climbed in and made sure Emma was being taken care of, a bit of relief sank into him. Khalid had terrible memories of finding Najela dead. He didn’t think he could go through the same thing again.
“I can’t believe it,” Emma told Khalid as she walked into his home near Kabul. “Thirty days leave.” Her left arm was in a sling and she had been given pain medication for her dislocated shoulder.
Khalid opened the door. “I can. Come, we’ll get you into your suite and you can take a long, hot bath.” The sky was dark, with sparkling stars, the wind hot off the desert. Inside, air conditioning welcomed them. He shut the door. Rasa, his housekeeper had been called earlier, and she stood attentively at the end of the hall near the living room.
In Pashto, Khalid asked Rasa to escort Emma to her suite. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her hair. “If you want to go directly to bed, do so. I will be up for a while.” He motioned toward the kitchen. He’d eaten little in the last twenty-four hours.
Emma nodded as she noticed the darkness beneath Khalid’s eyes. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’m not hungry, just dirty and tired. The bath sounds perfect. Good night.” After hours in the medical facility at Bagram, being poked, prodded and X-rayed, Emma felt so fatigued that her feet moved like chunks of concrete across the tiled floor. She’d had serious bruising on her cheek and ribs, but nothing was broken, thank goodness. Bath and bed sounded wonderful. She smiled at the housekeeper, and the woman nodded and smiled shyly in return.
“Only good dreams,” Khalid said, giving Emma a raw look of love.
“Good dreams,” she murmured. Emma looked over her shoulder to see Khalid striding silently into the kitchen. What she wanted was to be with him. To bathe, get her hair washed and slip into Khalid’s bed and be held in the loving protection of his arms. It was another dream….
Swallowing, Emma understood that it couldn’t be. At least, not right now. The doctor at Bagram said she’d suffered nerve damage to the three fingers of her left hand. Worse, he had no idea if she would get feeling back in them or not. And, the final blow to Emma was that she could not fly until—or if—she got full use of her fingers back. Emma felt as though the world had crashed in on her. She reminded herself she’d get out of the dirty flight suit, clean up and, she hoped, sleep deeply. Tomorrow morning, she would be in a better frame of mind.
Emma sat up screaming. The shout that erupted from within her startled her awake. Breathing raggedly, she shakily touched her perspiring face. Even with her eyes open, the light from the moon coming in the window, she could still see the hatred for her in Malik’s eyes. That had been seconds before he’d kicked her in the ribs and knocked her unconscious.
“God,” she muttered, throwing off the sheet and planting her bare feet on the cool tile floor. The slight movement of air conspired to help her focus on the present, not the past. Emma moved her left arm tentatively. She was on pain medication and now it moved easily and without any problem. Getting up, she found the lavender silk robe at the bottom of her queen-sized bed. As she pulled it on, Emma wanted to escape the room—and Malik’s leering face. Maybe a hot cup of tea would help.
Heart pounding, Emma made her way through the darkened halls to the living room. This was her favorite place in Khalid’s home. There were leather couches strewn with colorful pillows and a beautiful Persian rug lay between the two massive couches. She halted and gasped. “Khalid!”
“Emma.” Khalid swallowed his shock at seeing her and quickly stood up. He’d been leaning against some pillows propped up against one of the massive sofas. Dressed in a dark-blue cotton robe, he stared at her in confusion as she anchored at the door.
He saw the dark circles beneath Emma’s eyes even as the moonlight sprawled through the massive picture window. Her flesh gleamed. It was then that it hit him: she’d had a nightmare. More than likely a reaction to her trauma. “Please,” Khalid whispered, “come in. I can leave if you like?” He had no desire to make her feel trapped. The wildness in her dark-green eyes haunted him. Khalid saw the fear etched in them. Praying it was not fear of him, he lifted his hand and opened it to her.
“I—uh…no, stay.” Helplessly, Emma said in a shaky voice, “I had a nightmare about Malik just before he kicked me. I woke up screaming. Did I wake you up, too?”
Khalid watched her with such gentleness in his eyes. “No. I’ve been up for a while.” He motioned to the book near the pillows. “I was reading and hoping to get tired enough to go to sleep.”
Emma saw how very old the book was. The leather was frayed and worn. Somehow, just talking with Khalid was helping calm her down. “I wish I could read a book and feel safe…feel…okay,” Emma gulped. Clinging to Khalid’s dark gaze, all she wanted to do was run to him. As if reading her mind, he walked toward her, his arms opening, silently asking her to come to him. Emma didn’t shy away from her raw feelings for Khalid.
Moving into his arms and feeling his strength and tenderness, her face pressed to his neck and jaw, Emma released a long, trembling sigh.
“You’re safe with me, beloved,” Khalid rasped near her ear. Tendrils of her unbound hair tickled his chin and lips. Inhaling her feminine scent, he felt Emma sag completely against him, her arms sliding around his waist. He closed his eyes and savored her trust of him. Without thinking, he pressed small kisses upon her mussed, clean hair. “It’s going to be all right,” he breathed against her ear. “We have one another, Emma. The world might unhinge, but we love one another. And with love, we can get through anything. Together.”
Tears beaded along Emma’s lashes. “I feel so weak, Khalid. So scared. My whole life is upended. What if I don’t get feeling back into my fingers? My God, I can’t fly. The army won’t allow it. Where will I go? What will I do? All I’ve known is the army and flying.”
Khalid absorbed her sob. Emma’s fingers dug into his robe and chest. “Let it out, Emma. I’m here…I’ll hold you against the storms.”
Emma had never felt so safe or so loved as in that moment. There was something so exotic and ancient about Khalid. He was a warrior at heart. A man who could wear his heart on his sleeve without apology. And he knew when to be tender and sensitive. She had never found all these qualities in one man before. She had in Khalid. As hot tears spilled out of her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, Emma trusted Khalid with her life. She cried out her fear of having no future as a pilot, of having her world suddenly turned upside down and not knowing where she was going to land. Only the safety, the stability of Khalid’s strong arms holding her tightly against him was real.
Eventually, Emma’s sobs ceased. She hiccuped a few times. Khalid gently moved her toward the sofa and they sat down together. She eased back into his arms and he simply held her. With her head resting against his shoulder, her silky hair against his jaw, Khalid closed his eyes. He could feel Emma’s heart pounding against his chest. Felt the touch of her hand against his damp robe. He tenderly slid his fingers through her mussed hair. This was the first time Khalid had explored her and it made his heart swell fiercely with love for Emma. He felt her nestle her cheek more deeply against the crook of his shoulder. The fast beat of her heart was slowing now.
“Crying is a good thing,” he told her. “I remember when I was a little boy and my pet canary died, I cried for days afterward. He was my friend and at seven years old I didn’t understand that things could die. My parents encouraged my tears and they held me. I was lucky to have their understanding. I learned about death
and that I could be held with love in the aftermath.”
Just hearing Khalid tell his story soothed Emma’s fractious state. She sat up and wiped her cheeks free of the spent tears. “I feel like I’m dying, Khalid.” Emma held up her left hand and looked at it. “I have this horrible gut feeling that I’m not going to get rid of the numbness in my fingers. That the army will ask me to give up my commission.” Emma searched his eyes. “What will I do then?” The question was hard to ask, but she felt as if Khalid saw into her soul and never judged her.
Reaching up, he pushed a few errant tendrils of hair away from her face. “Beautiful Emma, you are young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Sometimes, we have one door shut in our face. But as soon as that happens, another will open. That is the way it is.”
Emma nodded, barely able to keep from staring down at her hand. “My family is a military one, Khalid. Most of us serve our country. Casey didn’t, but that’s okay, too. She’s my younger sister.” Dragging in a deep breath, Emma expended it and frowned. “The army won’t wait long to see if I can fly again. If I can’t, they’ll release me. What good to them is a pilot who can’t fly?”
Touching her left hand, Khalid stroked each of her long, artistic fingers. “Listen to me, Emma. I have had many dreams for you—and me.” He snagged her glance and smiled unsurely. “I have dreamed of asking you to marry me. To be my partner. I have dreamed of us flying books and school materials all along the border of my country—together.” He held her left hand. “The military might not let you fly, but there is nothing to say you can’t fly a commercial helicopter. You know, I own a fleet of them. I have three. I have used them for years to help Kinah fulfill our destiny with our Afghan brothers and sisters. You know me as flying for the military, but my life is much broader and deeper than that.”
Amazed, Emma stared at him. Her heart pounded. Khalid wanted to marry her! She vaguely heard the rest of his words, her gaze locked with his. There was such tenderness in his eyes for her. Real love. Not some passing infatuation, but love. Emma knew the difference. She twined her fingers between Khalid’s. “From the moment I met you, Khalid, I fought my attraction to you. At first, I thought you were just like Brody Parker. But over time, I knew that wasn’t so. Every time we kissed, I wanted so much more from you. I wanted to know everything about you. How you grew up. What held your interest. What experiences you went through to make you the man who is sitting here with me now.”
Lifting his hand, Khalid cupped her cheek. “And I fought loving you, Emma. After Malik murdered Najela, I felt as if my whole life was over. I couldn’t conceive of ever loving another woman.” He grazed her cheek. “Until I met you. Then, everything changed for me, Emma.” Touching the area of his heart, Khalid whispered unsteadily, “I felt as if my life were given back. A second chance. And once I realized I loved you with a fierceness to match the breadth of my life, I wondered if you loved me. You know in the military we can’t show our affection with one another. It’s not allowed.”
Emma nodded. “I know…and I wanted so badly to tell you, Khalid, but I was scared. We’re from different countries. Different worlds. I was worried how our parents would get along. I was worried about a lot of things, so it stopped me from telling you how I really felt.” Emma closed her eyes as his fingers trailed down her cheek to trace the length of her slender neck. Khalid had to know the truth. “Where would we live? What kind of life would be expected of me by you? I had so many questions and no answers.”
Khalid dropped his hand and held on to her searching gaze fraught with worry. “My mother is Irish. My father is Afghan. I was raised in a home where nothing but love and respect ruled. My father, whom I know you will love, is a man of great heart. He respects everyone. Their beliefs. Their individualism. My mother is tolerant of all peoples. She sees only their hearts and their dreams.”
“Your parents are like mine in that way,” Emma said.
Khalid managed an unsteady smile. “When one is raised in such an environment, Emma, how can one have problems with any other? I believe you have the right to ask those questions, but you must base the answer on your experiences with me. I can’t believe that your family is prejudiced against anyone from a foreign country. You show a tolerance and respect similar to mine, so I know your family is heart-centered too. It’s not the color of a person’s skin or their particular beliefs that really matters.”
“It’s the only way I want to see the world, too. My parents taught us the real measure of a person was their humanity to others,” Emma whispered.
Khalid tapped his heart with his hand. “Yes. The only question I ever have of anyone is whether they are coming from their heart. You come from your heart, beloved, just as I do. Is it not possible that two people who come from the heart can love and marry? That their families would also be celebrating such a union? When you marry for love and come into that sacred union with only love, then the best of all worlds has been born.”
Emma saw how her doubts had no merit whatsoever. Khalid’s voice was low with feeling. The more she knew the man, the more deeply she fell in love with him. Khalid was complex, with so many layers, and yet, he had a global perspective she didn’t see as often in others. And that drew her powerfully to him. “You’re right,” Emma admitted quietly, brushing her fingers across his hand.
“Love moves mountains,” Khalid told her. “No one can be untouched by love. I have dedicated my life, Emma, to doing things from my heart for others. Yes, I am rich monetarily, but I prefer the richness that comes from the heart. It’s not something money can buy. That is why it’s so important to help my people here in Afghanistan. Kinah is the same. She sees our money as simply a way to a means. One that will lift our people, one child at a time, to be educated. Because getting an education will lift our nation out of the past and bring it into the present.”
Emma saw the fervency in Khalid’s narrow eyes. And she heard it in his voice. “You’re a family of dreamers who put your vision into reality.”
Smiling faintly, Khalid took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “I like that. Yes, that’s true, beloved. Right now,” he whispered, sitting up and framing her face, “all I want is you at my side, Emma. I want you as my partner for life. I cherish your ideas, how you see the world and how you see me. I want to fulfill your dreams, too. What is a life lived alone? It is empty and hungry. I want my life entwined with yours, Emma. Will you marry me?”
How could she say no? Khalid’s words fell gently across her heart in such a way that Emma could not see her life without his larger-than-life presence in it. “Yes, I will marry you, Khalid. I’m not sure where our lives will lead, but it’s going to be an adventure.”
Leaning forward, he brushed her lips, parting them. “Beloved, no matter what we do, we will allow our hearts to lead the way….”
Chapter 16
Khalid picked Emma up and cradled her in his arms. She kissed his cheek and inhaled his dizzying male scent as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. There was joy in his eyes, a fierce love for her that stole her breath. This man, who bridged two major religions, was living proof that east could meet west from the heart. Khalid was unique and Emma sighed as she rested her brow against his cheek. Her mother, Alyssa, had always said that whomever she married had to be more than just a man. She had been right: Khalid was archetypal in the best of ways. Having been born and lived in such a loving home where the Christian and the Muslim religions were joined, he’d absorbed the best from both. And now, she was going to live with this man who held the hope of the world in his heart.
Emma smiled faintly as Khalid nudged the door to his master bathroom open with his toe. “Ah…water. I like where this is going, Khalid…”
He gently placed her on the thick blue Persian rug in front of a huge glass-enclosed double shower. “Care to join me?”
Grinning, Emma watched as he stepped into the blue-and-white tiled shower and turned on the water. The multiple shower heads released
warm water that fell like soft raindrops. “Just try and stop me.”
Khalid smiled in response, then felt the temperature of the water. “Just right. Are you ready, beloved?”
Without hesitation, Emma slid the lavender robe off. She wore only a silky tank top and shorts that fell midway on her thighs. “I am. You?” She gave him a challenging smile.
Khalid had no shyness about removing his blue robe. He was completely naked beneath. If Emma was disappointed in him, her large, beautiful green eyes did not reflect that. As her gaze moved from his throat, down across his darkly haired chest to his flat stomach to his narrow hips, he saw her cheeks turn pink and those copper freckles darkened. Reaching out, he settled his hands lightly on her shoulders.
“Do I pass your inspection?”
His teasing made her laugh. A sudden, happy giddiness surged through Emma as she looked up into his glinting, narrowed gaze. “Oh, yes, you do.” She saw how pleased Khalid was, and maybe, a bit relieved. After all, he was a flesh-and-blood man and Emma knew he was probably worried she might not be pleased with his body. She felt him move the thin silk from her shoulders. Her skin flushed and then prickled pleasantly as he coaxed the material off her torso and exposed her breasts. In a moment, Khalid had removed the soft material and set it on a nearby shelf. His gaze moved hungrily across her body. She felt his desire even though he hadn’t made a move to touch her. Her breasts tightened and the nipples hardened beneath his intense look.
Pushing the silky pajama pants off, Emma let them pool around her feet. She smiled and moved into the warm streams of water that issued from opposite walls within the huge shower. Gripping his hand, she said, “Come on in. The water’s fine.”
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