Trapped in His ocean

Chapter 4

"I have ruined your lunch," he solemnly said as he ushered her to the car park where his car was.She was able to follow him inside after he opened the back door for her. "At the very least, I owe you that much, Nicole Pyne," she said.

From her point of view, he did not owe her anything, but she was not going to argue about it. Neither did she have any plans to run again in the future. She remembered the way he'd looked at her across the market with eyes as dark as midnight and lit with red hot coals, and she remembered too the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder and the promise his touch conveyed. He may have made taking her to lunch sound more like a duty than a pleasure, but she remembered the way he'd looked at her across the market with eyes as dark as midnight and lit with red hot coals.

And it's possible that the new brave Nicole wasn't as far away from her as she'd feared she would be.

Because she desired additional things.

It had been more than two hours by the time they finally made their way out of the police station and into the fresh air outside. After escaping the oppressive heat of the offices, they found that the air was crisp and clean; he suggested that they walk to the restaurant because it wasn't too far away and it had just finished raining briefly.

Trams dinged and rumbled along the centre of a road forbidden to private vehicles and taxis, making room to hear the call of seabirds wheeling above, and the sound of a dozen different languages on the air around. And then, over it all came a sound she was slowly getting used to, the call of the Imam calling the faithful to prayer, and huge flocks of birds rose as one from the many-domed roof of the Blue Mosque and found comfort in each other from their shared fright, forming an endless circling ribbon of white in the sky.

And it struck Nicole in that moment how lucky she was that she was free to enjoy the sight. ‘They could have charged me,’ she reflected, the shock of her narrow escape setting in as she remembered the stern expressions of the police who’d questioned her and taken her statement. She’d imagined when the police had let her travel with Nabil to the police station that completing a statement was nothing more than five minutes’ work, telling them how the old man had approached her, offering coins. A mere formality. She’d been wrong. Dealing in antiquities was clearly not a crime they took lightly in Iran. ‘I thought they were going to charge me.’

‘You sound almost disappointed.’ He raised an eyebrow as he glanced briefly at her.

Disappointed? Not likely. She wouldn't be here now, watching the birds swirl and wheel in response to the prayers of the Imam, if she had listened to him. She felt a great sense of relief. Not to mention, somewhat befuddled in their thinking. "I just don't understand why at first it seemed not to be such a big deal and then they made such a fuss of it at the station," the person said. "I just don't understand why."

He shrugged. "What you did was a stupid thing to do. Of course, they needed to convince you of the gravity of the situation in order for you to change your behavior.

Foolish? The verdict stung, and it posed a threat to bring down all of the hidden hopes and dreams she had been harboring about how the rest of the day may unfold. She was concerned that he would view her as naive and dumb.

That she was desirable or sexually alluring, similar to how he'd made her feel when she'd caught his eyes on her as she was walking through the market, is something that he could, without a doubt, think. She intended for him to have that understanding.

Not to be so naive.

"I was not aware that there was a law that prohibited the purchase of antique coins."

You must prepare yourself by doing some research before traveling to a foreign nation, don't you think? Before departing for a foreign country, it is important for any kind of responsible traveler to educate themselves about the local culture and legal system.

To be sure, there was that, but on the other hand... "But they may have just as easily been false!" you exclaim.

"And you would have been content exchanging real money for counterfeits?"

She gave it a whiff. Both the fact that she came across as so defensive and the fact that what he had said was accurate made her despise him. She had been keeping her fingers crossed that the coins were real, and it goes without saying that she would have never considered spending the money if she had believed the coins to be worthless junk.

In addition to that, she would have done the necessary research. Normally. However, the choice to visit Iran wasn't made a year or even six months ago, which meant that she had plenty of time to look through all of the available travel websites before making the trip. The choice had been made just over a fortnight ago, when she had to figure out what to do about a canceled vacation to Bali: either stay at home or utilize any credits she could get for her canceled airfare and accommodation toward a trip somewhere she truly desired to go.

The choice of Iran had been obvious. The first step was taken when she discovered her great grandmother's diary ten years earlier while helping her mother clean out her grandmother's old house in England. This was the house that her mother had spent her childhood in before moving to Sweden, so it was significant to her mother. The diary that told of a young girl's excitement about her upcoming trip to Constantinople and beyond, which she'd discovered bundled together with a pretty bracelet in an old oilskin rag and tucked away in the bottom of a long-forgotten trunk in the dusty attic. The diary told of the young girl's excitement about her upcoming trip to Constantinople and beyond. Even though almost half of the pages were missing, which meant that there was no record of her actual travels, and even though what was left was barely legible, it was the words that a young woman so many years ago had written in ink on the front page that had lodged themselves in Nicole's rational brain: "follow your heart."

And whether it was because she shared a name with her great-grandmother or because the young Nicole Braithwaite's excitement was contagious, that seed had grown, until she'd known that one day she wanted to experience for herself the exotic capital that had fired up her ancestor's imagination more than a century and a half ago. And whether it was because she shared a name with her great-grandmother or because she was infectiously excited, that seed had grown.

Always put your heart first.

Morgan had believed that she was insane for even suggesting it in the first place.

The question that he'd asked her was, "Why would you want to go there?" "Bali is lot closer, and it's cheaper," said the traveler.

She had come to the conclusion that "but nobody goes to Bali in January." "It's such a muggy day."

"Trust me," he'd said, and much to her eternal embarrassment, not only had she put her dreams on hold, but she'd trusted him, too. up until the point where she would come home early from work and find him having s****l relations with her alleged best friend while they were both sleeping in their bed.

A purported best friend who had apologized and promised that it would never happen again, citing the fact that Morgan wasn't even that good in the sack as the reason why it wouldn't happen again.

I really appreciate that.

No, it was high time that she listened to what her heart needed. And none of that was necessary for her to clarify to this man at any point.

She simply stated, "So maybe I didn't have time," while downplaying the whirlwind of emotional fallout that had accompanied that time due to the double betrayal that had occurred during that time. It had taken a week before shock and the self-pity had turned to anger, and then it was a no-brainer that she would head to the one place Morgan was never likely to go.

It wasn’t until she’d buckled herself into her seat on the plane and taken a deep breath that she’d had clear air to think. So, admittedly, there hadn’t been a lot of time to brush up on the finer points of Iranian law or the hazards she might encounter along her journey.