"You want me to conceal you from Captain James?" Qaseem's voice rose in shock. "I can't do that!"

"Yes I do want you to hide me from the Boss. And you gotta do it." Molly Dawes lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. "Please Qaseem! I'll explain afterwards. "

The Bossman was fast approaching the car. In a sort of panic Molly took in his long legs encased in low-slung black jeans, the long sleeved Khaki shirt and his dark wavy hair, which was slightly longer now than when he'd been in the army. As he recognised Qaseem, a wide smile flashed across his face, sending her pulse soaring.

Oh, how could this be happening to her, in bleeding Kabul of all places? Just ten minutes ago, it had all been going so well, even if it was a bit hot underneath her voluminous, black niqab disguise.

It had been her last day of a short break in Afghanistan. She'd just left Bashira's school after another emotional reunion and Qaseem was driving her to his apartment where she was going to meet his mother, when his mobile had rung.

"I'm sorry Molly," he said as the call ended. "I've been asked to do some last minute work. Sometimes I interpret for UNICEF. They've asked me to meet one of their senior people at the US Embassy straight away and interpret for him in a meeting at the Ministry of Higher Education."

"The Ministry is not far from the University, so I can drop you off at my apartment on the way, but it means we'll have to cancel our plans to meet my mother this afternoon."

"Bummer," Molly was disappointed. "I was looking forward to that. I suppose there won't be time now before I fly out tomorrow?"

"No. It's too dangerous to go out at night. Come back and meet her next time. If there is to be a next time?" Qaseem added.

"You know me, I'll always come back to see Bashira."

But Molly sighed as they drove up to the massive fortress-style US Embassy building. Coming to Kabul was never easy.

"Can you wait here Molly? I'll collect this UNICEF VIP and be back shortly."

"Okay, Big Brother."

They smiled at their in-joke about her disguise. They'd become so used to pretending they were related when she came to Kabul, it came almost naturally.

But Qaseem wasn't smiling when he returned to the car. "Molly, the UNICEF top dog coming along with us… He will be familiar to you."

Molly looked up the great doors of the Embassy where two men stood in the shadowy entrance. One was a middle-aged Afghan, clearly a security guard. Behind him, half concealed by shadows, stood a tall man with dark hair.

As he strode into the sunshine towards the car, a bright flash of sunlight momentarily blinded her, and she felt as if her heart had contracted.

In a second of shock she recognised him. It was the Bossman.

She hadn't seen him for three years, but she felt like she would know him anywhere.

"Charles? No, oh no…" she groaned, still stunned by her bolt of lightening reaction. "It can't be."

"It is," Qaseem replied. "Of all the cities in the world, I never expected Captain James to turn up in Kabul."

"Oh shit." She watched him striding over the Embassy plaza towards her. "What am I going to do?"

He mustn't recognise her. After all that had gone on between them – after the sudden way she'd walked out on him, ending their relationship three years ago – she couldn't face him here. Persuading Qaseem to pretend she was still his younger sister seemed like the best option.

But Qaseem wasn't happy about concealing her, despite her pleas.

"Molly he's not in the army any more and you have your COs permission to be here, don't you? So why are you trying to avoid Captain James?"

"You don't understand Qaseem. And I don't have time to explain it. So please, just do it now and I'll explain it later. For God's sake, please?

Desperately, she turned her face away from the car window and pulled her Niqab further over her head so that it created a shadow that concealed her eyes. Her only salvation would be to pretend she was a very shy Afghan girl – too shy to look at him – and reveal eyes that he would, of course, recognise. Looking down, she felt the seat squash as he got into the car next to her. She sensed, rather than saw his face dip towards her and she nodded, keeping her head down so she avoided meeting his eyes.

"A relative of yours?" she heard him ask Qaseem.

How could this be happening to her? She could not believe she was hearing the rich, even tones of his voice.

Qaseem didn't answer and the silence stretched out. Would he conceal her? She held her breath.

"As good as a relative, Captain."

He was not going to give her away. Thank Christ!

The car started and out of the corner of her eye she saw they were leaving the paved embassy compound. She heard the Bossman unzip something and moving her head ever so slightly, she saw from the corner of her eye that he was pulling papers out of a laptop bag. His long smooth fingers were tanned a deep brown and his nails were neatly trimmed and suddenly, from nowhere, she felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him.

Just as she was reeling from this revelation, a faint hint of his scent washed over her, evoking a volley of flashbacks, which leapt into her consciousness. She recalled the time she'd exercised beside him in the little homemade gym at the FOB at the start of their tour. They were becoming aware of each other. He'd pulled off his sweat-drenched, regulation army T Shirt and thrown it over the handlebars of a bicycle where she'd caught a whiff of a wholly male essence that was so intoxicating she just wanted to bury her face in the T Shirt's khaki folds. It was an inexplicable, animal awareness and the memory of it and the feelings it had evoked tore through her.

Drawing a deep breath she forced herself to look away, down at her own hands, where – in horror – she noticed Smurf's ring, worn as always, on the third finger of her right hand.

Oh God, if he recognised it, she was done for.

Hastily she hid her hand underneath her niqab. Concealing her identity from him was going to be harder than she thought. Please, please, let the Ministry be close by.

Thankfully the Bossman seemed to have other things on his mind. For a while he looked at his papers in silence and then, as if mesmerised, Molly watched him uncap a black, engraved, fountain pen.

She suppressed a giggle. That was the Bossman all over! She (and most of the people she knew) used a cheap, throwaway biro, but even in the dusty confines of a dilapidated Afghan car, he was writing with an elegant ink pen.

She watched, fascinated as italic, black strokes emerged. She recalled the first time she'd seen his beautiful pen strokes, in another world, it seemed, as she watched him writing Rosabaya on her arm in the medic's tent at the FOB. It was the first time he'd touched her and she knew she'd remember the heat of his fingers searing into her flesh forever.

Abruptly he put down his pen and started to talk with Qaseem. "Now I'm not in the army I don't get a chance to keep up with many of the lads from Two Section. You probably know Smurf died in England shortly after we went back.

"Inshallah! I heard about that. His mother must feel the loss of both her sons deeply."

"Oh yes, Molly, I mean Dawes, was out here afterwards. I'm not in touch with her, sadly, last time I heard she was still in the army working on health issues in Africa. I heard from her CO that she was doing very well."

He spoke in a disinterested way and his matter-of-fact appraisal poured cold water on the turmoil she was feeling.

Qaseem was silent, so Molly assumed he was nodding his head. She didn't dare lift her eyes to look.

"Kinders has been promoted, he's a Sergeant in Cyprus now. Sadly Major Beck stepped on an IED soon after I we left. He's recovered physically, but he suffered serious post-traumatic stress disorder. He's a bit better now, but is not the man he was."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I left the army three years ago. I've been working for UNICEF since then, travelling mostly between Geneva and New York."

"You enjoy the travel, Sir?"

"It's a funny thing Qaseem. I often find myself thinking about my last tour here. Somehow it seemed to change my life in so many ways."

Molly felt like she could barely breath.

"It was a very intense time, and many things were left unresolved at the end of it, Sir. Truly you must have wished it were otherwise."

"Indeed. But there are things in life you cannot command, no matter how much you wish it were otherwise."

There was a silence in the car and then his voice came as if it was from a distance. "Are we near the ministry now? It seems very busy around here."

"Unusually busy, Sir. I was planning on dropping my uh, cousin off at my apartment on the way, but there are so many people around, I cannot even get there. She'll have to come with us, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry, it was a last minute request, wasn't it. My usual interpreter wasn't available. But I don't imagine we will be there for long. We are signing an agreement today. It's a formality, really."

Molly realised from the direction of his voice that he was looking out of the window. Without thinking she darted a quick look in his direction. If she didn't sneak a glance at him now, he'd get out of the car and she'd never see what he bleeding looked like.

She knew she shouldn't, but there was something faintly hysterical about her precarious situation that made her risk it.

She could only see his profile. His hair was still as thick as it ever was, but there were a few soft streaks of silver at his temple. She took in the subtle lines tracing the corner of his eye. They were new. But the mole above his lip was still there. Tantalisingly still there, she thought, suppressing a secret smile at how she used to lick it with the tip of her tongue. It used to drive him crazy with lust. The memory almost engulfed her with a sharp tingle of desire in her belly.

Suddenly he turned his head to look out of the window on her side and she caught the briefest glimpse of his chocolate brown eyes as she twisted her face away.

She could barely still the sharp intake of breath. Did he clock her?

"Qaseem, does your young female relative speak English? She seems very shy."

"If only she would introduce herself to you. You would be surprised at her English. But as you so rightfully said Sir, there are some things you cannot command, no matter how much you wish it were otherwise."

Oh Qaseem was too wily!

Suddenly they turned sharply and stopped briefly in front of an imposing gate before sweeping into a large courtyard surrounded by buildings.

We are at the Ministry, Sir. I will need your passport for your security pass. Please wait here."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Qaseem walk up to an imposing entrance.

Minutes later the bodyguard got out and, without a word, he disappeared towards the courtyard entrance.

Beside her, the Bossman sighed and they sat for some moments in silence. Then he got out of the car and went to sit on a low wall in the shade.

Even though the car was parked under a tree, in the midday heat it was like a furnace. Under her niqab it was becoming difficult to breathe. Opening the door, Molly became aware of an argument developing at the Ministry's entrance. The sun was blinding. She walked over to an archway in the shadows. The shouting grew louder and then it reached a fever pitch.

Suddenly there was a huge bang and the air seemed to vibrate around her. In an instant, she was thrown face down to the ground. Choking in the dust she moved to get up and then realised she was pinned down.

She struggled and the Bossman said carefully into her ear. "It's a bomb. Do you understand me? Wait out. Stay down."

He had thrown her to the ground and covered her with his upper body to protect her. In shock she lay under him for what seemed like several minutes and even with chaos all around, she could feel her heart beating wildly at his closeness.

Finally the Bossman sat up. He turned her over gently. "Are you alright?"

Molly realised the game was up. He was going to recognise her.

She looked up finally. She saw the polite, but remote concern on his face turn into a questioning look as he glanced into her eyes and recognised her. For a second he stared at her in disbelief.

"Molly?"

"Oh shit."

Disbelief gave way to fury. "What the fuck is going on Dawes? What are you doing in that bloody get-up? And more to the point, why are you here?"

"Bossman..." Her mouth felt dry and it was hard to keep her voice steady.

"I can explain."