Page 29 of Past Due

He relayed the information to the shopkeeper who motioned toward a display near the rear of the store. I followed Besian to the display of chargers and chose the one I needed. He wandered over to the selection of ultra-cheap phones while I made my way to the cashier.

“Is this all you need?” the man behind the counter asked. “No SIM card?”

“Just this,” I said, taking my wallet from my purse. After carrying my backpack everywhere, it was a welcome change to only have the light weight of my purse on my shoulder.

“Not waiting for your husband?” he asked, his fingers hesitating at the register.

I blushed, not quite sure why it made me feel so suddenly hot to be mistaken for Besian’s wife. I started to correct the man, but decided not to since I couldn’t be sure Besian hadn’t called me his wife when they were chatting. “No, I’ve got this one.”

The man shrugged and gave me the total. I slipped my card into the machine and waited for it to prompt for my pin. After entering it, I waited for the transaction to be approved.

Besian joined us at the counter just as the machine made a strange noise. “Is your card not working?”

“I don’t know,” I said, confused. “It’s been a few days since I’ve used it. I had cash for the hike, and I prepaid my hotel reservation.”

“Your bank probably put a hold on it.” He tugged my card out of the reader and handed it back to me. “I’ll get it.”

“No, I have some cash.”

“I’ll get it,” he insisted, already putting his items on the counter.

“Thank you.” I returned my card to my wallet and tucked it into my purse.

He nodded and finished the transaction. I took the bag with our merchandise while he slipped his card back into his wallet and into his blazer. We left the store together and crossed the street to get to our nearby hotel.

Unable to keep my curiosity at bay a moment longer, I asked, “Did you tell him I was your wife?”

Besian seemed suddenly hyper-focused on the traffic. “He assumed, and I didn’t correct him.”

“Why not?”

He glanced down at me, holding my gaze for an intense moment. “Because I liked the way it made me feel.”

Before I could ask him how it made him feel, he was pressing my lower back and guiding me across the busy street. I decided weaving through tourists and locals wasn’t the best time to press him about his feelings. We walked another block and entered the lobby of the hotel.

This was as far as we had gotten earlier. As soon as Besian had a room arranged, he had left our luggage with the front desk and taken me out to find something to eat. We rode the elevator to the top floor, and I leaned against the wall, feeling tired after that heavy meal and my long day of travel.

“You should rest when we get to the room. You look exhausted.”

I studied him for a moment. “You don’t look much better.”

“Jet lag,” he said offhandedly, but I could tell there was more to it than that. Did he have the same nightmares I did? Terrible dreams of him bleeding out on the dirt after taking a bullet meant for me? Horrible nightmares where he was killed trying to rescue me from the Triad?

When we made it to our room, I noticed two things. One—it was a very, very nice suite, probably the most expensive in the city. Two—there was only one bed.

“This was the only suitable room they had available,” he said as if reading my mind. “And, no, we aren’t getting separate rooms. I want to keep an eye on you.”

I suspected he wanted to keep more than an eye on me. “Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“Neither am I,” he replied, locking the door. “If you want chivalry like that, you’re with the wrong man.”

“Last night I wasn’t,” I muttered and instantly regretted it.

“What?” Besian narrowed his eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, I see,” he grumbled. “So, Andres is a gallant, chivalrous gentleman then?”

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