No, if what Julian says is true—and I’m inclined to trust him on this—it’s best if my parents don’t appear to have too close of a connection to the Esguerra organization.

Their ability to lead a normal life depends on it.

On the night before Julian is scheduled to leave, I ask Ana to prepare a special dinner for us. I recently discovered that Julian has a weakness for tiramisu, so that is our dessert for tonight. For the main course, Ana makes lasagna the same way that Julian’s mother used to make it. The housekeeper told me it was his favorite dish when he was a boy.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like a good meal will suddenly convince Julian to forego the cruel pleasure of getting his hands on Majid. I know my husband well enough to understand that nothing can dissuade him from that. Julian is used to danger. I think he even craves it to some extent. I’m not foolish enough to think that I can domesticate him with one dinner.

Still, I want this evening to be special. I need it to be special. I don’t want to think about terrorists and torture, abduction and mind fuckery. For just one night, I want to pretend that we’re a regular couple, that I’m simply a wife who wants to do something nice for her husband.

Before dinner, I take a shower and blow-dry my long brown hair until it’s smooth and shiny. I even apply a little eyeshadow and lipgloss. I don’t normally put this much effort into my appearance, since Julian is already insatiable as is, but tonight I want to look extra pretty for him. My dress for the evening is a strapless little number, ivory with a black trim at the waist, and my shoes are sexy black peep-toe pumps. Underneath, I’m wearing a black strapless pushup bra and a matching thong, the most wicked lingerie set I have in my wardrobe.

I’m going to seduce Julian tonight, for no other reason other than because I want to.

He gets delayed by some last-minute logistics, so I end up waiting for him at the candle-lit dinner table for a few minutes, anxiety and excitement battling for supremacy in my chest. Anxiety because I feel sick thinking about tomorrow, and excitement because I can’t wait to spend time with Julian.

When he finally walks into the room, I stand up to greet him, and his gaze fastens on me with breathtaking intensity. Stopping a few feet away, he runs his eyes over my body. When he lifts his eyes back to my face, the fire that burns in the blue depths sends an electric tingle straight to my core. A slow, sensual smile curls his lips as he says softly, “You look gorgeous, my pet… Absolutely gorgeous.”

A flush of pleasure warms my skin at the compliment. “Thank you,” I whisper, my eyes glued to his face. He changed for dinner as well, putting on a light blue polo shirt and a pair of gray khaki pants that fit his tall, broad-shouldered body like they were made for him. With his dark, lustrous hair back to its former length, Julian can easily pass for a model or a movie star vacationing on a golf resort. My voice sounds breathless as I say, “You look pretty amazing yourself.”