Angels & Sinners: The Motor City Edition (41 page)

Requests for their time or contributions to various causes were answered with the business card of their personal assistant.

Marcy was happy to see Riya and her men. Max and Micah were financial geniuses and reclusive in their own right. Max had his arm around the happy woman. Micah stood at her other side, holding her hand.

Touching cheeks, the brunette took her in from head to toe. “You look . . . let me see your eyes.” Marcy lifted her face and a slow smile spread over Riya’s face. “Hmm. I recognize that expression. I would give you the details but it’s better if you experience it for yourself.”

Lowering her voice, she murmured, “Question.” Riya leaned close. “Can you tell your men apart . . . you know?”

She gave a tinkling laugh and whispered, “No, but they don’t seem to mind. It gets blurry sometimes.” Mouthing the word “orgasms,” Riya crossed her eyes comically.

Only clapping her hand over her mouth prevented the sound of Marcy’s laughter from ricocheting around the sedate room. Micah and Max grinned at her.

Quietly, Max said, “The lifestyle has no other frame of reference, Marcy. Relax and know that they are ready to give you whatever it is you need.”

“It makes me feel . . . selfish,” she confessed.

He winked an electric blue eye. “Then they’re doing it right. I imagine, much like Riya, that you’re due some selfishness.”

Micah added, “You hustle in your professional life. Your work world will be insane for another six months and then the majority of it will be on autopilot. There are two of them. They can do the heavy lifting until you have more freedom to focus.”

Glancing between the threesome, she took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“As strong as you are—as you will always be—don’t be afraid to trust them with your care in the areas that you need. It will keep you rejuvenated for other parts of your life where they aren’t able to help. All you have to do is let them in.”

Glancing past her shoulder, she smiled. “Hello!”

Fahad and Nuri shook hands with the men and were catching up when Tawny appeared in their midst. Oddly, she said, “Zach and Quinn
suck
at hide and seek. I’m kicking their
asses
in this round.” Then she was gone.

Marcy stared at her retreating back. When she started to ask a question, Riya shook her head. “Don’t try to figure her out. Your head will explode.”

It was nearing midnight when the toll of another eighteen-hour day began to hit her. Turning, she almost fell and Fahad put his hand beneath her arm casually.

“Dizzy . . . ” she managed to whisper. “I’ve only had a single glass of champagne.”

Low enough so no one beyond the three of them could hear, he said, “It is not alcohol. You are exhausted, Marcy. You need food and you need to sleep until your body has had enough.”

Nuri appeared on her other side. “You have not had a single full day off in six months. Today is Friday. Take the weekend to rest. Turn off your phone, do not check email, and know that Daria will let you know if there is anything truly urgent.”

To her horror, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m
tired
. I’m suddenly so tired that I can’t think.”

They all but carried her to an alcove, blocking visibility of her from the other guests. Dropping the curtain, they pressed their bodies against her and supported the majority of her weight.

With her forehead against a hard shoulder, she whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Do not apologize for hitting a wall, Marcy.”

“There is no reason to be embarrassed for being human.”

“I love what I do. I love the company.”

“Of course you do. You accomplish many good things all over the world.” Fahad pressed his face to hers. “That does not mean you have to work around the clock.”

Nuri rested his forehead against her temple on the other side. “I have never seen anyone—man or woman—work as many hours. There is no shame in needing rest. If you take it, it keeps you going.”

“If you are rested, you are more focused and in turn get more done. Let us help you, Marcy.”

She picked up her head to look at them. “You were letting me figure it out.” They simply stared at her. “You didn’t push or lecture me.”

“We have no wish to control you, Marcy. You are brilliant and independent. Two of the qualities you possess that draw us to you. Changing the woman you are is not part of this.”

“You are a grown woman with a brain that rivals ninety-nine percent of the world. You are not a child. We knew that if you needed it, you would ask for help.”

She stepped from between them and pulled herself together. Carefully wiping her face and smoothing her hair, she inhaled deeply and turned back to face them.

“I need a break. I need your help.”

They smiled and said together, “Consider it done.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The men were incredible at removing Marcy from the gala. There were few goodbyes and fewer conversations. Half an hour after she almost collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of a charity ball, Fahad and Nuri were settling her between them in their limo.

“It will take more than an hour to get to the house. Rest, Marcy.” Nuri nudged her gently against Fahad and removed a cashmere blanket from a side compartment. “Close your eyes,
kalby
.”

Already more relaxed than she’d been in too long, she asked, “What does that mean?”

“Another time.”

“Okay.” Then she was asleep.

***

The sensation of warm hands moving gently over her face and neck stirred her and she blinked against the low lights of the limousine.

“Here we are, Marcy.” She struggled to sit up but her body felt like concrete. “Rest. We have you.” Fahad lifted her from the limo and she saw they were in a large garage. He started to walk but a huge man stepped in front of them and spoke sternly in Arabic.

“They want you to be free to move . . . ” As she said it, the man took her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. “Hello,” she murmured up at him.

“Hello, Miss Canfield,” he replied in a deeply accented voice. “I am Khalib. I will get you safely to the living quarters. Do not worry.”

“I never worry when I’m with Fahad and Nuri.”

“Then you are even smarter than I have heard.”

She estimated him to be close to seven feet tall and watched as the security team moved them into the main house. Once inside, the tension lessened substantially.

“The house is well fortified.”

“It is capable of withstanding a tank or helicopter attack.” He winked down at her. “We have tested this to be certain. Even your White House does not have as much security.”

“Well . . . that’s distressing for the President.”

He grinned. “You must not worry. The Ghonims have advised additional armaments.”

She caught brief glimpses of the rooms they passed and wished she could explore further. “I’m awake now, Khalib. You can put me down if you want.”

“I would rather not, Miss. The cousins say you have a warrior’s spirit. Even warriors must rest.”

A few minutes later, they passed through double doors and Khalib placed her gently on a bench at the end of the massive bed. Fahad and Nuri stood to the side with their hands behind their backs. Stepping back, the big man bowed regally.

“I am the head of security for the estate. Should you be in need, simply press any of the red buttons located on either side of the bed, beside the shoe rack in the closet, or along the underside of the toilet tank in the bathroom. Help will arrive within moments.”

“Thank you.”

Gesturing behind him, a young man walked forward with a carved case. Lifting the lid, he displayed two 9mm handguns inside.

“We are aware of your training and your preference for the smaller, lighter 9mm. They are loaded and will be in the top drawer on either side of the bed. Safety is engaged.”

“Did you know my father?”

“I trained with your father’s head of security for two years. When you left Dubai, I traveled with your team to New York.”

“I’m sorry . . . I don’t remember.”

“You were hurt in your body and your heart. I give you my word that no harm will come to you while on these grounds.” He inclined his head. “However, you will rest easier knowing you are not completely dependent on us for your protection.”

Her smile was slow. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“I will turn you over to the house staff. It is an honor to have you with us, Miss Canfield.” He turned to go and the men in tactical gear followed him out. As the last guard stepped into the hallway, a small woman entered with a smile.

“I am Bena. I oversee the running of the house. We can talk more tomorrow. Tonight, you need comfortable clothes for sleep.” She walked into the closet and emerged with a t-shirt and sleep pants in the softest fabric, laying them on the bench beside her. “Everything is in your size and we have stocked the bathroom with basics. Please let us know what else we can get for you.”

“I appreciate your kindness.”

“I have much to say but it will wait. Welcome to the estate, Miss Canfield. Sleep well.” With a bow, she left and pulled the doors closed behind her.

Marcy stared at the door for a long time, thinking about her introduction to the staff. She didn’t realize she’d zoned out until Nuri knelt in front of her.

“Sleep is priority. We will help you dress and you will get every second of it that your body requires. I believe you caught your level of exhaustion just in time. Many more days and I fear you would have been hospitalized.”

Fahad sat beside her and began the task of unbuttoning her gown, pulling her head to rest on his shoulder. Nuri slipped off her shoes and gently raised her gown to remove the silk stockings she wore. Their touch on the bare skin of her back and legs gave her goosebumps but her mind drifted.

Stroking the backs of his fingers over her cheek, Nuri smiled as her eyes opened.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . ”

“Ssh, Marcy. Come.”

He gathered her in his arms and took her to her feet. As Fahad lowered the gown and gently lifted her feet from inside, Nuri held her against his chest and worked a soft shirt over her head. He helped put her arms inside when she missed the hole.

At her back, she felt Fahad pulling sleep pants up her legs. When they were settled low on her hips, he stood and straightened the t-shirt. Only when she was completely covered did they set her back from Nuri’s chest.

Fahad lifted her in a cradle and walked around the bed as his cousin pulled back the linens. He put her in the middle of the big bed and she watched as the men stripped down to boxers and climbed in on either side of her.

She struggled to keep her eyes open, not wanting to miss a single moment. “You’re beautiful . . . ”

“Tonight, you sleep.” Fahad kissed her temple. “A woman on the verge of complete exhaustion needs rest, not seduction.”

Stubbornly, she mumbled, “But I
want
seduction . . . ” They chuckled quietly.

“What position do you sleep in most comfortably, Marcy?” Nuri asked. Without a word, she curled on her side.

They kissed her and she remembered nothing else.

***

Unsure of the time, Marcy opened her eyes and there was dim light from a tiny lamp across the room. The cousins were pressed to the front and back of her body. Never in her life had she felt men with such warm skin.

“You need to sleep more,” Fahad whispered behind her.

“Quick bathroom break.” She was shocked at the scratchy element to her voice.

Her forearms were folded against Nuri’s chest and she lifted her face to stare into black eyes that sparkled in the sparse light. He scooted off the bed and pulled her to the edge.

She stood quickly and didn’t understand what was happening until Nuri caught her inches from hitting the floor. “Are you all right?”

“I . . . that was weird.” Fahad stood on her other side, his cell phone against his ear. He smoothed his palm over her hair as he spoke to someone on the other end. “I’m fine. Just a little disoriented.”

Nuri walked her into the bathroom and she took care of business. Opening the narrow door, he walked her to the sink and she took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light. He kept his palm on her at all times.

After she washed her hands, he led her back into the bedroom and her eyes widened at the two additional people waiting for her. One wore sweats and carried a classic doctor’s bag.

Fahad had pulled on sleep pants but stood gloriously bare-chested.
Focus, Marcy.

“Hello.”

“Miss Canfield, I’m Dr. Rosen. I need to take a quick look at you.” He gestured to the bench at the end of the bed. She sat shakily and he bent over to take her hand. When he shined a light in her eyes, she flinched. He straightened and said calmly, “You’re suffering from exhaustion and dehydration.”

He held out his hand and his assistant placed a packet in his palm before walking to the built-in bar and putting ice, water, and sliced lemon in a glass.

“This is an electrolyte replacement. I’m going to instruct the house staff to give it to you four times a day.” His smile was gentle. “I hear you’ll be with us for a few days?”