Final Vow (21 page)

He could tell she pitied him
, pitied his need for retribution. Yet she was holding back Jamal and others, using her body and her life to let Ahmed have his moment. For what? For a wife who turned out to not be his? For his child—yes, but would he want death to shroud his beautiful son’s name? He was killing Sergei in his son's name, after all.

No. Ahmed shook his head and loosened his hold on Sergei. His son deserved better than that. He deserved to be remembered as the
precious boy he had been, not for the terrible things Sergei had done. He saw that when he looked at Bridget. She was the future. She would love him—all of him. Bridget would love Kedar and celebrate his short life. She would be by his side always because they were partners and they loved each other.

Ahmed dropped his arms to his side and Sergei fell to the ground gasping for breath. Bridget smiled
and dropped her guns. Ahmed felt the darkness crack and fall away from him. “You deserve far worse than a quick death. You deserve to rot in a cell as you are transported from country to country to face the families you robbed of loved ones. Kedar has his justice. You’ll never be a free man again.”

He stepped
around Sergei’s gasping body and found himself filled with hope. Bridget’s smile dropped and he quickly wondered if she thought he was weak for not killing Sergei. She raised her gun toward Ahmed and squeezed the trigger. Ahmed felt the burning pain of skin being torn as he collapsed to the ground.

Bridget was running toward him along with his brother and the guard
s. The king was yelling orders to get him, but it was Bridget who reached his side first. With the look of an avenging golden-haired goddess, she kicked out hard. Ahmed felt the weight lift from him as Sergei flew backward with the force of the hit.

“Ahmed may have
decided to let you live, but I’m not so forgiving,” Bridget said in a cold voice as she leveled her gun at Sergei.

“No
,” Ahmed called out. The pain from the knife lodged in his back had him struggling to talk. “It would be torture to him to be locked in a cell for the rest of his life. A quick death would be too good for him.”

“I’ll kill you the
second I escape.” Sergei spat at her with blood blossoming where her bullet had hit his shoulder.

Ahmed drew in a painful breath as Bridget smiled down at Sergei and pulled the trigger.

Bridget had never experienced
a kind of fear like she had the moment she saw Sergei pull the hidden knife from behind his back and lunge forward. The knife had been buried in Ahmed’s back as her bullet lodged in Sergei's shoulder. The shocked look on Ahmed’s face would haunt her nightmares as both men fell to the ground, with Sergei landing partially on top of Ahmed.

The kick had
felt good. She thirsted for revenge against this man who dared take so much from the man she loved. And when he threatened her, she knew what she had to do in order to secure her future with Ahmed. So she pulled the trigger.

Sergei screamed and
she pulled the trigger a second time. No one had moved. The king and Jamal stood shocked, but then Ahmed smiled at her. She moved to stand over Sergei. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t bother saving anymore cupcakes for you.” Sergei’s eyes rolled back and he hit the ground with a thud.

“You didn’t kill him?” Jamal asked as he motioned men to take Sergei into custody.

“Nope. But he sure as hell will never be able to walk well again. Can't escape without a good pair of knees.” Bridget tucked her gun away and turned to where Marko had crawled next to Ahmed. He whined and nuzzled Ahmed’s hand with his nose. “Are you okay?”

She kneeled beside him and
examined the knife sticking out of his shoulder. “Yes, I think it stopped when it hit my shoulder blade. He was too weak from our battle to do any real damage. Now come here and kiss me,” he ordered.

Bridget leaned forward and placed her lips on his. It was a soft kiss. Tender
and loving, but filled with a promise of their future. “Now, let’s go get you stitched up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Bridget
finished talking to her dad and hung up the phone just as Ahmed exited the king’s private study. Ahmed, Bridget, and Marko had been hastily driven back to the palace. While Ahmed was stitched up, she and Marko had walked the exterior of the palace grounds as well as the main areas of the palace. She had just stopped to call her father and check in on Ahmed before finishing the rest of her sweep.

“Feeling better?” s
he asked.

“Yes. The king briefed me as the doctor sewed me up.
The Americans gave us the name of a company with explosion detection dogs to help clear the pipeline of any remaining Semtex. It seems he wanted to blow up the palace but didn’t get the chance to plant the explosives. There are already people at work fixing the damaged pipes, so I hope we won’t be shut down too long.”

“How are you feeling? And what’s happening with Sergei?” Bridget tossed the tennis ball for Marko and laughed as he sk
idded on the marble floor.

“
I just need stitches, some antibiotics, and a tetanus shot. More interestingly, I was informed that countries are already fighting over extradition of Sergei. The newspapers and gossips are most appalled by the fact I was stabbed in the back. Within hours Sergei will be known for that and not as the world's top mercenary.” Ahmed laughed as he put his arm around her. “Did you get your calls out of the way?”

“Yes. Here’s
one of the satellite phones. I’m sure Mo would like to hear from you and the king.” Bridget handed him the phone and leaned against him. She was a mess. Dirt mixed with sweat had turned to mud and dried on her. Blood from her fight with Sergei’s men was splattered in places, and she was having a serious case of helmet hair.

“I am sure my husband would like that very much.” Fatima smiled and held out her arms. Bridget clasped her hands and kissed each cheek. “Thank you for your help today. I have a bath ready for you and I want the doctor to make sure you are well. Ameera and I will take you up.”

“I need to finish my sweep,” Bridget said with a sigh. She was exhausted and a bath sounded like heaven.

“
A team from Saudi Arabia has already arrived. Mohtadi called his sister and she told her husband who informed the sheik. The sheik was devastated; he was coming for a visit next month and sent a team to help so he would not need to postpone the trip.” Queen Fatima smiled at Ahmed. “Funny thing, we never invited him. Good thing the king remembered you did and made sure to tell the sheik all the impressive, manly things he had planned already. Because of you, our relationship with that country is getting stronger by the day.”

Ahmed bowed his head respectfully.
Bridget was excited to see Dani’s sister-in-law hurry over to them with her slightly rounded belly almost hidden under her flowing sari.

“It is so nice to see you again. I want to hear all the gossi
p from Keeneston,” Ameera giggled.

“I don’t know, it sounds as if the Keeneston grapevine has
extended to your sister and the sheik,” Bridget laughed and soon they all joined in.

Fatima laced her arm through Bridget’s
while Ameera did the same with the other arm. “Go have your man-time while we take care of your Bridget,” Fatima called over her shoulder to Ahmed. “We’ll see you at the celebration. It is time for our country to rejoice and begin the healing process.”

Ahmed watched as Bridget was escorted to the suite of rooms Fatima had prepared for her. He looked down at the phone and turned toward the king’s study. He quickly scribbled down the last number called. His first call was to Mo. His best friend was relieved to hear that they were well and Sarif and Sergei had been captured.

“How did you do it, my son?” t
he king asked, full of pride.

“I
might have told the President of the United States a story of love and told her that only she could ensure a happy ending. Then I invited the prime minister to our box at the Kentucky Derby. The British love the races,” Mo said happily. Ahmed almost laughed. Not only had Mo received aid, he’d probably worked out a deal for some more horses to race in the U.S.

“You
got them to help with just that?” the king asked.

“
I also let them know how important it was that our countries remain allies. It seemed they agreed and gave the orders for aid from their men stationed nearby. They looked good helping a small country and they didn’t risk any boots on the ground. It was a win-win for them. And for us. I just can’t believe you challenged Sarif like that, Father.”

Ahmed
had watched it and was still in disbelief. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell Dani and Nabi all about it. Ahmed waited impatiently as the king and Mo finished their talk.

“I am going to go get ready for the party. Tonight we open the doors to the palace and celebrate peace in our great country.” The king rose and handed the phone back to Ahmed. “You are a great warrior, Ahmed. Your father would be proud. However, your father would have killed Sergei.”

Ahmed hung his head. Even in death, he could not please his father.

“You are like a brother to my son and therefore a son of mine.” The king patted
Ahmed's shoulder and looked seriously down at him. “And as my son, I am proud of you for not killing him. Now go get cleaned up for tonight.”

The king left Ahmed alone in the room.
He stared at the number he had written down and felt ashamed when he called Nabi. “I need you to run a number for me.” He rattled off the number that Bridget had just called and waited for Nabi to run a trace.

“T
hat’s just her father, sir,” Nabi told him. Ahmed let out a breath he knew he shouldn’t have even been holding.

“Do you have his address?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Bridget slid into the beautiful gown and felt like a princess. Ameera and Fatima had been so kind to her. The bath had been exactly what she needed to feel refreshed. While she had cleaned up, the women had gone through their dresses and found the perfect one for her.

“You
look wonderful,” Fatima beamed.

“And right
on time. Here he comes.” Ameera giggled.

Bridget saw him in the mirror. Ahmed leaned against the door in a black tuxedo and held a narrow rectangular box in his hand. “And he bears gifts. We
will see you at the celebration.” Fatima linked her arm with Ameera and they hurried from the room with their heads bent together whispering.

“You steal my breath every time I see you. But tonight you make me eve
n more thankful that I am yours. I brought you something.” Ahmed placed a reverent kiss on her cheek and handed her the box.

She opened it and found an intricate gold chain with a single pearl in the middle. Thin gold leaves surrounded the pearl making it appear to be set within a flower. “I saw this in Italy before you arrived. It reminded me of you and
I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it to you."

Bridget
refrained from leaping on him and covering him with kisses as he came to stand behind her to fasten the necklace. “It’s stunning. Thank you.” She reached up and let her fingers trace it while she looked in the mirror.

“Can I show you where I grew up before heading to the celebration?” Ahmed asked.

“I’d love that.”

Ahmed walked her down the long hallway of the third floor. Thick Persian runners ra
n the length of the hall. Vases filled with flowers sat on the small tables under the colorful works of art on the royal family’s private floor. They had honored her tonight by having her stay with them.

She followed Ahmed to a hidden door behind a fake bookcase and then down the narrow steps behind it to the bottom floor.
This was for servants to move around undetected, Ahmed had told her. The cooks, maids, and butlers hurried through the rooms and hallways. The first door they came to was locked, but Ahmed pulled out a key after knocking. “They must be at the party already. This was where I grew up. It now belongs to Jamal and his family.”

He pushed open the door to a small living room. Off to one side was a kitchen and to the other side was a narrow hall leading to what she assumed were the bedrooms. “We had to be near the royal family always. My
father, like his father before him, was the head of the guards. I was different. I wanted to take photographs, like this one.” Ahmed pointed to a picture Jamal had framed on the wall.

Bridget took a step closer and looked at the teenager in the picture with his head bent over his father’s desk. Their father stood looking proudly down. The shadows of the image, the clear look of joy on his father’s face, and the adoration of the son was both moving and telling. The son
the father was so proud of was Jamal.

“Your picture is amazing. It actually reminds me of the pictures at your home.”

Ahmed smiled and Bridget could see him fill with pride. “Thank you. Those are mine as well.”

“You’re amazing
. You need to take more pictures.”

Ahmed nuzzled her neck and placed his lips near her ear. “I have a wonderful idea for a series of nudes.”

“Ahem.”

Bridget jumped in surprise, but Ahmed jus
t held her in place and winked.

“Yes, Jamal?”

“The king is requesting your presence at the celebration. I believe the two of you will be honored tonight.”

Ahmed held out his arm to lead her to the party.
“Shall we?”

Ahmed kept Bridget’s hand tucked in the crook of his arm as they stood next to his brother on the royal family’s dais. The palace gates were open and everyone from state officials to fishermen stood dressed in their best while waiting to go through the security line to get inside to celebrate Sarif’s capture and the return of safety to Rahmi.

However, there was no one there
who could come close to the image that was Bridget. She was simply stunning in the cobalt-blue dress that hugged her curves and flared at the knees—and she was his. Ahmed had never felt so much pride before. Not only was she breathtakingly beautiful, but she was also kind and gentle. The royal family loved her as much as the old woman who had encountered her right after she landed in the village. She had a smile and a kind word for every person who approached her.

Marko was eating up the attention as well as he sat
beside Ameera with his nose pressed to her belly. The dog could sense the child inside of her and was refusing to leave her side. He was worse than a mother hen. Ameera was delighted and already begged Bridget to let Marko spend the night with her.

“In conclusion, thank you to my security
, our soldiers, and to our allies for helping keep Rahmi safe. We’re a small country but full of pride and unlimited possibilities if we work together. To the people of Rahmi and our future!” The king raised his arms in triumph and the crowd erupted.

The king
nodded to the band and music surrounded them. “Ahmed, a word with you and Jamal, if you don’t mind.” The king ushered them toward Mo’s oldest brother.

Reluctantly Ahmed followed his brother to the stand next to the king
and his son. “Ahmed, I have talked to Jamal, and I want to offer you a way to come back home. You have trained Nabi well. His father is most impressed. I want you home now to work side by side with your brother. You two will both work as our two chiefs of security.”

Ahmed opened his mouth to respond, but the king held up his hand. “It is a big
honor and one you should speak to my son about. Go back to Kentucky and talk it over with Mohtadi. Get him used to the idea, for this is not a request.”

He couldn’t stop looking at Bridget. Desperation clawed at him. Ahmed couldn’t leave her. Not after how hard he fought to be with her. She laughed and he stepped from the shadows. If his time was limited with her, then he needed to make the most of it.

“Excuse me,” he said
, interrupting her discussion with Jamal’s wife. “Care to dance?” The music slowed and Ahmed held out his hand for Bridget.

She smiled radiantly at him and his heart broke. He was going to talk to Mo and then he’d be leaving. He was bound to the family
by duty. After all, he was a Mueez, and they served the king.

“I’d love to.”

Ahmed slid his hand around her waist and cupped her hand with his other. He pulled her tight against him and slowly led her around the floor. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Instead he listened to her happy chatter and heard the hitch in her voice when he slid his leg between hers on a turn.

He smiled down at her when she automatically leaned into him with her breast
s molded against his chest. He couldn’t stand the thought of being halfway around the world from her. The desperation overtook him as he bent his head to kiss her, not stopping until they were both breathless.

He rested his forehead on hers and
knew he needed her. Every fiber of his body called out for her silken touch. “Bridget,” he pleaded.

“I know,” she smiled up to him as she cupped his face. “Take me to bed, Ahmed.”