When she was done, the woman guided her back to the tent and then left her alone to savor the soup. Her appetite had returned tenfold since her first meal in the oasis. Her gut felt hollow, but the broth soothed her as she listened to the chatter of strangers. She tried to pick out Thorne’s voice, but couldn’t.

When Cress crawled out of the tent again, she saw eight forms seated around the fire. Jina was stirring a pot half buried in the sand, and Thorne sat relaxed and cross-legged on one of the mats. He had a bandanna around his eyes.

“She rises!” yelled the hunter, Kwende.

Thorne raised his head, and his surprise broke into a toothy grin. “My wife?” he said, louder than necessary.

Cress’s nerves crawled to find so many strangers staring at her. Her breathing became erratic and she considered feigning a dizzy spell to seek solace back in the tent.

But then Thorne was standing, or trying to, wobbling on one knee like he might tip right over into the fire. “Uh-oh.”

Cress darted to his side. With her help, he heaved himself up to his feet and grasped her hands, still shaky.

“Cress?”

“Yes, Cap—um—”

“You’re awake, finally! How do you feel?” He sought out her forehead, his palm landing first on her nose before sliding up to her forehead. “Oh, good, your fever’s gone down. I was so worried.” He pulled her into an embrace, dwarfing her in his arms.

Cress squeaked, but the sound was muffled in the cotton of his shirt. He released her just as quickly and cupped her face in both hands. “My dear Mrs. Smith, never scare me like that again.”

Although his act was overdone, Cress felt a jolt behind her sternum at seeing his mouth set just so, feeling his hands so tender against her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I feel much better now.”

“You look much better.” His lips quirked. “At least, I’m assuming you do.” Thorne dug his toes into the sand and flicked up one end of a long stick, catching it easily. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. Try to get some real alone time on this honeymoon of ours.” He twisted his face into a wink that was obvious even beneath the blindfold.

The crowd around the fire hollered as Thorne took Cress’s hand. She guided him away from the taunts, glad that the night’s darkness hid her burning cheeks.

“You seem to be getting around well,” she said when they’d gone some distance from the fire, though she was glad when Thorne didn’t release her hand.

“I’ve been practicing walking with the new cane. One of the guys made it for me, and it’s a lot nicer than that metal one. The camp setup still confuses me, though. I swear they keep moving stuff around every time I think I’ve got it figured out.”

“I should have been there to help you,” she said as they neared the small lake. “I’m sorry I slept so long.”

He shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re all right. I really was worried.”

Her attention caught on their entwined fingers like a beacon. Every twitch, every heartbeat, every step was broadcast through her entire body.

It wasn’t long before her imagination had them lying together in the warm sand, his fingers stroking through her hair, his lips working their way along her jaw.

“So listen,” said Thorne, snapping her away from the dream. “I told everyone that once we get to town, we’re going to call up my uncle in America and have him send transportation, so we won’t be continuing on with them.”

Cress tucked her hair behind her ears, still shaking off the tendrils of the fantasy. The touch of night air on her neck was unexpectedly pleasant. “And you think we’ll be able to contact your crew?”

“That’s my hope. The ship doesn’t have any tracking equipment, but given that you were able to find our location before, I thought maybe you could think of some way to at least get a message to them.”

They made a full circle around the camels, who eyed them with blatant disinterest, while Cress’s brain started rummaging through a dozen possible means of communicating with an untraceable ship, and what she would need to accomplish it. She hadn’t been able to do it from the satellite, but with the right net access …

She was grateful when they arrived at their little tent. Though the walk had been short, the large boots had already begun to burn. She sank down on the mat and pulled one off, inspecting the bandages as well as she could in the dark. Thorne settled down beside her.

“Everything all right?”

“I hope we can find some shoes when we get to this town.” She sighed dreamily. “My first pair of real shoes.”

He smirked. “Now you’re sounding like a true Earthen lady.”

She glanced toward the fire to make sure no one overheard them. “Can I ask why you’re wearing a blindfold?”

His fingers skimmed the material. “I think it was making people uncomfortable—my staring into space all the time, or looking right through them.”

She dipped her head, pulling off the second boot. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I think your eyes are … well, dreamy.”

His lips quirked. “So you have noticed.” Pulling off the bandanna, he tucked it into a pocket, before stretching his legs out in front of him.

Cress fidgeted with the blunt ends of her hair, staring at his profile with a longing that made her entire body ache. Finally, after an agonizing minute of gathering her courage, she shifted closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Good idea,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “How could they not think that we’re in love?”

“How couldn’t they?” she murmured. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to memorize the exact feel of him.

“Cress?”

“Mm?”

“We’re good, right?”

She peeled her eyes open. A crop of palm trees in front of her glowed orange in the fluttering firelight and she heard the burst and crackle of sparks, but the noise seemed far away.

“What do you mean?”

“I was just thinking about, you know, what you said out in the desert. I figured it was mostly the fever speaking, but even still, I have this habit of saying things without really thinking about them, and with you being new to this whole socializing thing…” He trailed off, his arm tightening around her waist. “You’re awfully sweet, Cress. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She gulped, her mouth feeling suddenly chalky. Never had she thought that such kind words could sting, but she couldn’t help feeling that his compliment didn’t mean what she wanted it to mean.

She peeled her head off his shoulder. “You think I’m naïve.”

“Sure, a little,” he said, so matter-of-factly that it seemed less of an insult than being called sweet. “But mostly I just think I’m not the best person to demonstrate all the goodness humanity has to offer. I don’t want you to be too disappointed when you realize that.”

Cress knotted her fingers in her lap. “I know you better than you think, Captain Thorne. I know that you’re smart. And brave. And thoughtful and kind and—”

“Charming.”

“—charming and—”

“Charismatic.”

“—charismatic and—”

“Handsome.”

She pressed her lips and glared at him, but his mocking grin had swept away any hints of sincerity.

“Sorry,” he said. “Please, continue.”

“Perhaps more vain than I’d realized.”

He threw his head back and laughed. Then, to her surprise, he reached over and took her hand, his other arm still around her waist. “For having such limited social experience, you, my dear, are an excellent judge of character.”

“I don’t need experience. You can try to hide it behind your bad reputation and criminal escapades, but I can see the truth.”

Still beaming, he nudged her with his shoulder. “That on the inside, I’m really just a sappy, lovelorn romantic?”

She dug her toes into the sand. “No … that you’re a hero.”

“A hero? That’s even better.”

“And it’s true.”