He withdrew at the moment of climax, his face taut. She wanted to feel him, so she wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft. He was hot and slick from her moisture, pulsing in her hand. He spilled across her belly with a hoarse groan. She marveled at the sight. Perhaps because she was riding a sexual high, the by-product of their union seemed precious. His seed glistened on her skin, painting her in warmth.
He rolled onto his back, completely spent. “I’m dead. You killed me.”
She laughed, her tummy quivering. He passed her a tissue from the box next to the bed, so she wiped his seed away. “You don’t have to withdraw.”
He made a grunting sound.
She cuddled against his side. “I want your child.”
His eyes flew open. “You said it was the wrong time of month.”
“It is. But I wish to pretend otherwise. The next time, you can stay inside me.”
“Give me a minute. I’m still dead.”
She walked her fingertips down his chest. His manhood twitched at her touch.
“Half-dead,” he corrected.
She laughed, and he moved on top of her again. He kissed her and tickled her until she was gasping for breath. Instead of starting another round, they took a break. The room had a television, which seemed like a divine luxury. He turned it on and flipped through the channels until he found a news station. Her Farsi was rusty, but she didn’t hear anything about an American fugitive or an attack at the border.
“Bring me that map,” he said, patting her bottom.
She retrieved the map from her backpack and spread it on top of the bed. There were no easy ways out of Iran.
“Is there another border crossing into Armenia?” he asked.
“Not from Iran.”
“What’s this place again?”
“Azerbaijan.”
“Why are there two countries named Azerbaijan?”
“It is one country, two land masses.”
“Can we go there?”
“There is a crossing in Jolfa, but it will be heavily guarded.”
“What about here?”
She considered the route he was suggesting, in a remote area that stretched from Iran to Azerbaijan and ended in Armenia. “We would have to enter illegally, and travel over rough terrain.”
“Now you’re worried about breaking rules?”
“Iran is a militant nation. They have a large, well-organized police force, and they are diligent about border security.”
“Do we have a choice?”
“There is another problem with going through Azerbaijan.”
“What’s that?”
“Abdul Al-Bayat.”
She knew Hud recognized the name, because he went quiet.
“Ashur told me he was in Telskuf before we came. Ibrahim mentioned it.”
“So?”
“Was he one of your captors?”
Hud rubbed a hand over his mouth, not answering.
“Perhaps you are familiar with his yearly ritual to celebrate spring.” It involved the beheading of a high-profile enemy, live-streamed for maximum exposure and to rally their bloodthirsty followers.
“You think he planned a public execution?”
“You are a Navy SEAL. He would revel in your death. Also, Rahim might have sent him after you. The Da’esh cannot allow an escaped captive to live. It damages their image.”
He digested that without arguing. “Al-Bayat and his men can get into Azerbaijan.”
“Yes.”
He studied the map again. She saw what he saw: a vast expanse of unfriendly territory with no clear path to freedom.
“We can stay here in Iran,” she said.
“You can stay here,” he countered.
“I go where you go.”
He put the map away and came back to bed. Discussing his beheading wasn’t the most romantic way to spend their time together. The future was uncertain, but her love for him was not. He cradled her close and held her until she drifted to sleep.
Chapter 17
Hud eased away from Layah in the wee hours of the morning.
He rose to his feet and got dressed in the dark. Then he stood by her side of the bed and watched her sleep. Her hair spilled across the pillow in tousled black waves. He memorized every detail of her lovely face. The sweep of her eyelashes. Her exquisite body, all soft curves and smooth skin. He was desperately in love with her.
Too bad he’d never see her again.
He forced himself to take a step back. Then another. Swallowing hard, he picked up his boots and carried them to the door. He hated to leave without saying goodbye, or even writing a note, but he couldn’t risk waking her up. She’d insist on coming with him. He had to go now, before dawn.
He padded down the hall, then paused to put on his boots. The lobby was dark and quiet as he ventured outside. He continued down the road, not looking back. He tried not to think about how Layah would feel when she realized he was gone. She’d given him the best night of his life, and he’d ditched her. But he had no other choice. He couldn’t stay with her. If he was going to die, he was going to die alone.
According to the map, he was about twenty miles from the border with Azerbaijan. It was another ten to Armenia. He’d have to cut across a mountainous area and face challenging terrain. He also needed to stay out of sight as much as possible.
He ignored his clenched gut and kept moving. He was hungry, but food wouldn’t fill him. The emptiness inside him was all about Layah.
It was killing him to walk away from her. He didn’t know how he’d live without her. When he’d started this journey, he’d been eager to abandon her and her family. He’d searched for opportunities to escape. Now he was
