Page 38 of Zero Hour

Shit.

She ought to have known it would be pointless reasoning with him.

Almost subconsciously, her fingers clenched around the knife.

“I’ll take that.” His hand closed over hers, prying it loose.

She let him. There was no point in provoking him, especially not with Riad in the next room. His cousin wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. In fact, he was probably waiting for an opportunity.

Amir set the knife on the counter, then turned back to her. He was so close, she could feel his body heat. His hand slid up her neck, closing around her throat.

Then, he kissed her, his mouth pressing hard against hers.

She turned her head away, revolted. “Amir… please don’t.”

He scowled, gripping her face with his hand. “I will have you, Jasmine. It’s just a matter of time.”

Then he turned and strode out, leaving her frozen in place.

Jasmine sank down onto a kitchen stool. God, this was a disaster. She’d always suspected Amir had a thing for her, but she’d hoped he’d keep it under control.

Now she had to fend him off—as well as try to uncover whatever they were planning.

Hot tears threatened to well up, but she blinked them away. Well, she had to draw the line somewhere. She didn’t care what they did to her, she was not sleeping with the enemy.

A shudder rippled through her.

Maybe it was time to leave. But how would she get out?

Then, she thought of Ryan and shut her eyes. Would Patrick’s operative really be able to protect him?

If she stayed, she’d have to watch her back every second of the day.

The two men sat in the living room watching TV. She picked at her sandwich in the kitchen, but her stomach was in knots. She barely managed two bites before throwing it away.

She heard Amir’s phone ring. He answered, then walked down the hall, lowering his voice. Jasmine strained to hear.

“I’ll take care of it,” Amir said. “No, don’t come here. I’ll meet you at the park. Same place. Friday night. Not long now.” He finished with: “Allah ma’ak.”

She waited for him to return to the living room, but he didn’t. Then, suddenly, she heard ragged breathing.

Peeking into the hallway, she found Amir leaning against the wall, a hand to his throat.

“I can’t breathe,” he rasped.

Riad appeared from the living room. “What’s wrong?”

The gasping grew louder. “Can’t breathe.”

Riad’s head snapped toward her. “What did you do to him?”

She raised her hands. “Nothing. He’s having a panic attack.”

“Well, do something!”

Amir clawed at his shirt, his face red and contorted. He staggered into his study, then back out again.

Jasmine rushed forward. “Amir, come and sit down.” He let her guide him to the couch, still panting, his body trembling violently.

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