I glanced up at him, feeling sheepish about my disheveled state. “Oh, I wouldn’t presume to walk in Abebe’s footsteps, with or without shoes.” Abebe Bikila was a source of great pride for Ethiopians, who in 1960 won gold for long-distance running in the Rome Summer Olympics. He ran the entire twenty-six miles barefoot.

Elias made a sound of approval, like he appreciated my knowledge of one of Ethiopia’s greats. “Desta, you’re practically Habesha!”

I shook my head at him for saying I sounded like a native Ethiopian. I knew I had to be blushing. This gorgeous man’s attention had me a little flustered. “I wouldn’t quite hand me the Habesha card yet.”

He laughed again, and holy shit was I going to have to watch myself with this man.

“I need to hear how you got your name some time. But first,” he said, gesturing to the passenger side of the truck. “Did you have your breakfast yet, or some coffee? If you’re in Ethiopia, you cannot start the day without getting some bunna. We can get you something before getting on the road.”

His accent was also going to be an issue. His voice was so deep, and the lilt with which he spoke English was giving me shivers. There went those eyebrows again. It made him look rakish and I wanted to climb him. The lack of caffeine had to be partly responsible for the eyebrow fixation. I wasn’t functioning at my full capacity.

“Sure, that would be great, actually.” Wasn’t I the eager beaver this morning? “I haven’t eaten yet. I decided to forgo food and get more sleep,” I confessed while I moved to open the passenger door. “I’m definitely still jet lagged too. And I got my name because my parents knew they were moving here when I was born.”

He got in on the other side, and after we were both settled, he drove us out of the guesthouse. Once we were slowly making our way to the main road, he briefly turned to me, his expression curious. “Really? Were your parents working here?”

“Yeah, they moved here a few months after they got married, in 1990. They came to work with Children International. After the food crisis, you know?”

He nodded at my words, but the smile that had been on his face was replaced with a grimace as he started the car. “Many people working with international organizations came here once those photos of starving children were seen around the world. Unfortunately, for too many people, that is still all they care to know about our country.”