Heat flooded her belly, pooled between her thighs, the ache irresistible.
And then what?
Was she trying to torture herself?
She was working on the most important case of her life so far, perhaps the most important case she would ever have. Survivors were trusting her to do all she could to bring the monster who’d destroyed their lives and killed their loved ones to justice. She didn’t need the distraction of a sexual liaison with the head of her security team.
No, really, she didn’t.
She didn’t.
She. Didn’t.
He was probably lousy in bed. In Shanti’s limited experience, most guys were.
Besides, the two of them were nothing alike. He lived in the US and worked for a private military company. She lived in The Hague and worked for the International Criminal Court. It’s not like they could have any sort of future together. The last thing she wanted to do was to get involved with a man who spent his time in armed conflict—or who might go to work and not come home.
She thought of those scars. A round scar on his chest from a bullet that had to have come close to his heart. A deep gouge in his right shoulder. A scar on the left side of his abdomen that looked relatively recent.
All of the things I’ve seen, all of the things I’ve had to do—what happened to those women is some of the worst.
In his own way,hewas a victim of violence, too.
Apart from child soldiers and others who were forced to fight at gunpoint, she’d never thought of professional soldiers being a victim of violence before. He had almost certainly killed, but he had also suffered as a result.
He’d shown empathy for the Rohingya people based on his own experience, and she’d thrown it in his face, following it up after her apology by telling him she knew he wasn’t like General Naing.
Could she have been any more insensitive?
Her email alert told her that she had a new message. Bram had written to say that he’d downloaded the three sound files and the first two video files and had saved them. He thanked her for her work and told her he was leaving the office for the evening and would download the third in the morning.
She glanced at her watch, saw that it was growing late. While the third video file finished uploading, she set her phone, camera battery, and her digital recorder to recharge and then got ready for bed. It was almost eleven when she finally crawled between the sheets, but it was much later before she finally fell asleep, her thoughts on Connor.