Page 7 of Asher

At the same time Marlowe was stroking out over that audacious lie, Barbie shrieked, “This woman’s married toyou?” She made Marlowe sound like she was a lower life form, and Barbie hadn’t yet had the decency to even look her way. How rude.

“Yes, and we have six kids,” Marlowe whispered hoarsely. Hey, if Mr. Downey could dish it out, he could take it. Although six kids might be a stretch, considering he wasn’t old enough and neither was she.

Not that Barbie noticed. There went those fake, too-long-to-even-look-real lashes again, batting a hundred while striking out. “Ah, err, your, umm, wife…”For crying out loud, spit it out. “…isn’t wearing a ring, and I assumed…”Cough. Cough.

“I have her ring. I removed it before surgery.”

I had surgery? On what? Oh yeah, probably my eye.

“Well, okay. I guess that makes sense.” Barbie tapped her index finger on her plump bottom lip, pouting.For the love of God, what is wrong with this woman?“I didn’t mean anything…” Stiffening her spine, she mustered a cheerful, totally fake, “Never mind. Let’s see how she’s feeling today, shall we?”

She.Not Mrs. Downey. Not Marlowe. Not the hag in the bed. Eye contact would’ve been nice, but this woman seemed to have eyes only for Mr. Downey.

“You and the mouse in your pocket?” Marlowe teased, too quietly to be heard.

Which caused her fake-and-totally-unexpected husband to push his chair back, lean over, and take hold of her good hand. “Now, honey,” he murmured, his voice so soft and sweet, Marlowe wanted to lick him. “Be nice. You know we only have two little ones. Twin girls, Blossom and Buttercup.”

Marlowe wanted to laugh at those outrageous names. But the moment he twined his fingers between hers, she lost the battle for self-control. This man was gorgeous up close. Soft brown hair, trimmed on the sides, but luscious and long enough on top to run her fingers through. If she could. A very strong angular jaw, perfect brows, and a strong, straight nose. A dimple. This big tough man had the most adorable dimple, close to the corner of his mouth. The tender glow in his eyes overrode her plan to get up, get dressed, and leave.

“You… Ah, you are…” Was all she managed to murmur, because it was suddenly, hard to breathe.My heck, he has gorgeous eyes.

The door’s hydraulic hinge whooshed shut. Good. Barbie Doll was gone. Maybe she wouldn’t work the next few days. That’d benice since she hadn’t once asked how her patient was doing. Was she even a real nurse?

“Hey there, honey.” The sexy gentleness in this guy’s voice was more than she could handle. “It’s sure good to see your bright, smiling face again.”

Honey.He’d called her that in the cave. Before or after she kneed him? Why couldn’t she remember?

“I’m not beautiful, I’m ugly,” she whispered, “but you’re so handsome.” She’d purposefully made herself ugly to avoid being caught or noticed by the Taliban. In that country, the uglier a woman was, the better off and the longer she lived. Ugly women didn’t attract attention like pretty girls did.

“You still think I’m handsome?” he teased, reverently kissing her knuckles and those gorgeous green eyes intent on her. “You gave us a helluva scare, honey.”

There was that kind, sweet word again. No one had called her anything that nice before, ever. “Who… who’s us?” she asked, glad he hadn’t agreed she was ugly.

“Me and my team. You remember Beau and Murphy, don’t you? And Lee? He’s the big guy who lifted you into the chopper.”

Beau? Murphy? Lee? Chopper?Nope. Didn’t ring a bell. Not at all. Not like it mattered. She’d never see those guys or the chopper again if she’d really met them in the first place. Talk was cheap and lies were cheaper. After all, she was suddenly married and had twin daughters. Who knew what other lies this guy was capable of. “Oh, them, sure.” By then, her energy was gone. “I’m tired, umm, husband.” More like too tired to play this ridiculous game any longer.

“Then go to sleep and rest easy. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

It dawned on Marlowe then.Where’s my beanie?

She freaked. “Crap. Oh no, crap!” slapping what was now her only good hand on her head. No, no, no. But it was too late. He’d already seen her very bare, very bald, totally hairless head. Those creeps in the cave had taken the beanie the moment they’d captured her. They’d known she worn it under her veil. They’d known! They’d claimed she’d broken Allah’s laws. That was why they’d beaten her. Big, brave men like those cowards had to beat her sins out of her. Liars!

“You know. Mr. Downey, you know. Don’t look. Stop, I’m ugly!” Tears rolled out of her one good eye. “I look like Cyclops, but you… you’re…”

Gorgeous and sexy and tall, and you smell so good.

He was instantly in her face. “Name’s Asher, honey, and you do not look like a Cyclops.” He smoothed a gentle hand over her bandaged skull. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“R-really?” she asked like a dolt, blinking through the tears welled up in her eye, wishing he wasn’t lying to make her feel better. But okay if he was. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Of course you’re beautiful, and the hair you shaved off is growing back. It looks more like a very close shave, a buzzcut. It’s the latest fad back in the States, so please don’t cry. Until we get you home, you’ll be traveling as my wife, Mrs. Asher Downey. Yes, you lost your beanie, so I picked up another for you.” He pulled a dark green beanie from his rear pocket and asked, “May I?”

He wanted to touch her scalp? Her bald-as-a-cue-ball head? “No.”Heavens, no.“Why?”

“Why what? Why do I want to help you, or why do you have to travel as my wife?”

“Both.” God, yes. Both.

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