“No. It is very beautiful. But how… I mean…does a house not cost a lot of money? How will we repay him?”
Reaching over the seat, he took her hand andbrought it to his lips. “Nic’s generosity sometimes makes meuncomfortable too. But the use of the house, I will accept. He’dalready planned to build cottages for me and Jake before we headedout to Afghanistan. When you and I got married, he added on a fewmore rooms.”
“It is wonderful.” Azita bit her lip, andKaden smoothed over the spot with his thumb. “I never imaginedhaving my own house.”
“I think you’ll see a lot of things here thatyou never imagined.” He grinned at both Azita and Laila. “Okay,let’s go inside.”
Nervous, but excited, Azita released Kaden’shand and undid her seatbelt. “Oh, what about my headscarf?”
“What about it?” Kaden asked distractedly ashe prepared to exit the vehicle.
“I have heard that many Muslim women do notwear head coverings of any kind here.”
Kaden got out of the car and walked around toopen her door. Offering her his hand, he pulled her to him. “Azita,honey. Whether you wear a headscarf is entirely your decision. Somewomen do and some don’t. Just remember that the reasons for wearingit may not apply here.”
“What do you mean?”
He rubbed his jaw as he visibly tried to puthis thoughts into words. “In Afghanistan, women wear head coveringsso that they are not seen. But here, wearing one draws attention.The women who wear them do it to make a religious statement.”
Laila bounced out of the car. “In thatcase”—she whipped her headscarf off, freeing her dark curls, andthrew it into the car—“I am not going to wear one.” Her smileturned into a frown. “Unless that does not please you, Azitajan?”
“No, Kaden is right. It must be your choice.”She turned to Kaden and forced herself to rest a hand on his arm,despite everyone watching them. “Thank you, my husband. Must Idecide today?”
“Take your time. But this discussion remindsme that I have a welcome home gift for you.” He reached between thefront seats and pulled a small flat box out of his ever-presentduffel bag.
Unsure of herself, Azita took the box. “I didnot know. I have nothing for you.” Would she forever be stumblingover unfamiliar traditions?
“Hey, it’s okay. I wasn’t expectinganything.” Kaden held her face in his large hands and kissed her. Awicked thrill rocked her. Back home, such behavior would havegotten them whipped, whereas here it was natural, even welcomed.Behind them, Laila giggled. Her heart lighter than it had been inyears, Azita smiled.
“Open the box,” Laila urged, cold air andhappiness making her eyes and cheeks glow.
“Very well.” Wondering what more Kaden couldpossibly give her, Azita lifted the top off the box. Inside it washer mother’s scarf. The fragile blue fabric she’d used to bindKaden’s ribs back at Tariq’s camp was neatly folded and pristine.“How—?”
It was all she could say as tears welled inher eyes.
“I had to find someone in Mazar-e Sharif whocould clean it properly and mend a few small tears. It wasn’t easy,but I think it was worth it.” He searched her face and held herstare for a long moment.
Something passed between them, a silentmessage. Love for him filled her heart and gave her courage.Mindful of their audience, she hastily swiped at the wetness on hercheeks. “May I wear it now?”
“Absolutely. I thought you’d want to haveyour mother and grandmother with you today.”
How did he already know her so well? Azitahanded the box to Laila and threw herself into her husband’s arms.“I love you so much. I do not deserve you, but I do not care.”
Kaden crushed her to his wide chest,laughing, and twirling her around in the snow.
Azita blushed, feeling Kaden’s erectionpressed into her belly. Her body responded with a now-familiar rushof heat between her legs.
“Whether you deserve me or not, you’re stuckwith me.” Grinning from ear to ear, he pinched her bottom, makingher squeal.
She shot a pointed glance toward the window,then at Laila standing beside the car, watching them with a smile.“When we are alone,” Azita scolded Kaden, her tone amused.
“Promise?”
She risked giving a sassy sway to her hips.“Yes, my husband.”
“Christ, you’re fucking perfect.”
Tossing her head back, she laughed. The soundechoed in the open fields, and a horse whinnied in the distance.She’d never felt so free.