Chapter Eleven
Wilkes awoke with a groan—he felt like he’d been run over by a bus. Or a tank. As his senses slowly came alive, he realised why. He was squeezed onto a single bed, with very little room. And next to him was Rustam Balkhi, stark naked.
The events of the previous evening slammed into his brain. Carefully, he slid his arm from beneath the other man and sat up, thinking fast. Part of him—a huge part—was filled with a smug kind of joy at what had happened between him and the interpreter, especially since it was apparent that both of them were in it for more than just s*x.
But the rest of him—the doubtful, perhaps more sensible part—knew that, if they were going to carry on seeing each other, if that’s what they were doing, things would get a whole lot more complicated before t
