Page 86 of Rescuing You

People who did not come from good and respectable families were not trusted. Not given responsibility. Not able to marry well.

Germany had been different. She hadn’t felt judged by her heritage but by her work. Because she was a hard worker, competent and devoted to the hotel she managed, she was accepted and respected. Mostly.

What was the benchmark in America? Was it work? Or money? Or fame?

Would she be judged well? Or scorned?

“Will you tell me about your family?” Michael’s words were spoken casually, but she wasn’t fooled.

“I have told you much.”

“I need to know your father’s name and the names of the people trying to find you.”

“I will tell you when Jasmine and I are safe.”

“Why not now?”

“Why do you not tell me who you really are?”

He shot a look her way. “For your safety.”

“And yours, I think.” She gave him a moment to correct her, but he didn’t. “If they catch us, they will demand to know what we told you. They will use methods to make sure we tell them everything. It would be better if we could honestly say we’d told you nothing.”

He nodded slowly, rubbing his lips together. “That makes sense.” He sent a small smile her way. “You are not them. You’re not your father or your uncle or any of the people he associates with. My parents and brothers will accept you for who you are.”

Maybe.

But she’d encountered racism in Germany. Not dissimilar, she assumed, to the racism in Iraq, only in Iraq, she belonged to the acceptable race.

What about America? Some said they hated Arabs, but most Arabs she heard of who’d gone there were happy. Even so, she couldn’t put away her fear.

“I am not white. Will they reject me because of that?”

It would be one thing if she were pale, but she was dark like her father. Much, much darker than Michael.

“Whenever talk of race would come up when I was a kid,” Michael said, “my parents would tell us that there are only two races. Seed of Adam and Seed of Christ.” He lifted her hand and held it to his chest. “You, sweetheart, are in the family of God, which makes you Seed of Christ. Regardless of the color of your skin, you and I are the same race.”

Could that be true?

Seed of Adam. Seed of Christ.

She’d never thought of it in such simple terms. “Your parents are wise, I think. They are in Maryland?”

The pleasure on Michael’s face slipped away. He dropped her hand to his thigh. Opened his mouth, closed it again. Finally, he said, “I have a lot to tell you. When we’re safe.”

Which meant…no. Not in Maryland. He’d lied to her about that too.

She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on. “I know I have a lot to explain, but please believe me when I tell you that I had no choice.”

“You are a spy, yes? Some sort of secret agent. Like…like Double Oh Seven or Jason Bourne?”

“I promise, I’ll tell you everything. But the things that matter, Leila—what I believe, who I am as a person? Those things are true. You know what matters.”

She hoped so. She dearly hoped so, because she cared very deeply for the man she thought he was.

She loved him. She could no longer deny that. But what if it was all a lie?

“It also doesn’t change how I feel about you,” Michael added. “That isn’t going to change no matter where we are. No matter what I learn about you or your family. You’ve been keeping secrets too. But I know you, Leila. I trust you.”