He’d been dreaming with Laila at his side, the fresh scent of her skin wrapping around every thought. She’d captivated him, enough that he’d shared with her stories about his family, the people closest to him. Protective of his family and the people he loved, he was very careful about what he said about them. If a victim, witness or informant knew he had family, he made it clear they weren’t a subject he discussed. Even with coworkers, he was sometimes reluctant to discuss them. He didn’t want his deepening relationship with Laila to cause him to make a mistake or overlook a critical piece of information. Devon had warned him that working closely with Laila could cause these problems, as if Harris’s relationship with Cassie hadn’t already taught him of those dangers. Harris wouldn’t let emotions get ahead of logic or blind him. Harris had made good progress in the few days he’d been in Qamsar. The more he observed Mikhail and the people around him, the more familiar faces appeared.
