His Stubborn Lover (6 page)

Brock decided he hated these dinners. All dressed up and nowhere to go. Tonight was a repeat of last night. The sheikh had eyes only for Erin—but he looked tired, dragged out from a day negotiating, Brock knew. The conversation was about the same as last night—but the food, heck; the food was worth putting up with all of this gossip.

And so was Keira.

She looked great in a small black dress that left him thinking about peeling it off of her. He really didn’t need that distraction. He’d spent the day with Talib, talking over contingency plans. What if the rebels attacked? What if there was a spy in the household? He’d taken a peek at the folder Keira had acquired—a smart move to look over the staff—but he knew they were clear. Everyone working at the palace had been here for years.

Brock knew he should pull back a little from Keira. They’d established their cover for good now. There was no need to pretend to be lovers when they were that in fact, but he couldn’t get his mind off of her. She’d give a small laugh and he’d wonder what had amused her. She’d glance at him from the corner of her eye and he knew she was thinking about what they’d done this afternoon. She was under his skin, and God help him, he liked her there. But what if things went south on this op? He didn’t want her anywhere near any kind of crossfire—meaning he had to make sure he knew how to keep her safe.

After dinner, they headed back to her room. He intended to kiss her good night and leave it at that. They could both use a little breathing space. But the kiss led to groping, which led to him finally getting her out of that little black dress. He stripped her bare and tried to kiss every inch of her.

He turned her over, trailed kisses and licks and bites down her spine, all the way to that pert ass of hers. He gave her a sharp smack, turned her over, and dove in like he’d never had any woman before. She fit herself to him like she belonged, wrapping those sinful legs around him. He pulled her upright and she sat on his lap with him buried inside her, and she grinned.

His heart turned over.

God help him about that, too, because he loved that lopsided grin of hers.

When she’d pulled everything he had to give out of him, he curled up next to her, just a sheet over them. She fell asleep, but he lay there, playing with a strand of her corn silk hair, wondering what he was going to do when it came time to finish this job. He’d done what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do—he’d let a woman get close. But this wasn’t just a woman. This was Keira. It was his job to keep her safe. That was now his first priority.

***

Keira woke to a nagging beep. She sat up. Brock was already on his feet. Alarms in the palace started blaring.

Brock pulled on his pants and grabbed his gun. Keira struggled out of the sheets, grabbed sweats and a T-shirt, and pulled out her gun, too. But she tucked it away and caught Brock’s arm. “If the guards see guns, they’ll start shooting.”

Brock nodded, checked his safety, tucked his gun in his belt, and pulled on a shirt. Keira followed him out of the room. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“We need to get to the ground floor and see what’s up on the video feeds.”

The alarms silenced. That seemed more ominous to Keira than the noise. She knew the palace staff had all been trained to stay put if the alarms went off. No matter what was happening, they were to stay out of the corridors so security could do their jobs.

In the upper corridor, Keira spotted Trent. Brock went over to him. “What’s up?”

“Shira and Khalil’s transponders both activated. Travis and Talib are downstairs, but as far as we can tell, the alarms in the royal quarters were disabled. We’re doing a search now for what set things off.”

Keira nodded. If they’d shut off the alarms for Khalil, that meant the alarms in all of the royal quarters were also disabled—they were all part of the same electrical circuit. That needed to be corrected, immediately. “Any movement on the video?”

Trent shook his head. “No one has come or gone from the palace in hours. Khalil and Shira went into the royal quarters shortly after the sheikh and his new bride.”

Mouth tight, Keira didn’t say what she was thinking. An insider wouldn’t have been spotted on the outside cameras and might even know how to avoid the inside ones. “Something about this just seems wrong.”

“Agreed. Come on.” Brock led the way towards the royal quarters. He kept close to the walls and lowered his voice. “Until we know everyone’s safe, assume lives are in danger. When we get into the residence, your first priority is Shira. I’ll find Khalil and then we get them to safety.”

“What about Erin?” Keira asked. Irritation danced over her skin. Brock was taking charge, but now was not the time to start an argument.

He didn’t answer her. Opening a door, he stepped into the royal quarters and paused. Most of the lights were off and she could hear soft music playing from the patio. The bedroom was empty. Keira poked into the bathroom, saw no one. Brock checked the closets. Still no one.

Where the hell were Khalil and Shira?

She looked at Brock. He gave her a hand signal to advance on the private patio. Keira nodded and moved. When they reached the doors, she wished they had some idea of what they might be walking into, but the windowpanes gave a limited view.

Brock took the left door handle, Keira took the right. He gave a count with his fingers…one…two…three.

She flung open the door at the same time he did, stepping through and drawing her gun.

On the patio, Khalil and Shira crouched low in a hot tub, the steam swirling around them, making the air thick. Jasmine surrounded the private patio, screening it.

Khalil shielded his wife and demanded, “What is going on?”

Keira glanced at them. Shira’s pendant was hanging down into the water, and from the moisture dripping off of Khalil’s arms, his wristband had been in the water.

Brock straightened. “Weren’t you listening when PJ explained how those pendants work?”

Shira poked her head around her husband’s side. “Of course. Never take it off. Hold it tightly in your hand and squeeze hard if you ever need help and can’t call for it.”

Glancing around, Keira realized they’d just created the perfect diversion. “Erin,” she said, her throat tight. She bolted for the sheikh’s rooms. They were down the hall. It took her fifteen seconds, with her heart thudding hard. She slammed into the royal apartment, gun lifted.

Sheikh Kamal looked up from his desk. He had a computer laptop open in front of him and a gun in his hand. Keira was going to guess he was backing up sensitive information, just in case those alarms had signaled an intruder alert. She straightened. “Your royal highness, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but where is your wife?”

He lifted one dark eyebrow. “I assume this is necessary. She is waiting in the bathroom.”

Keira headed there, her heart thudding.
Please be here.
She opened the door and stared into an empty room. Behind her, she could feel the heat of the Sheikh as he stepped closer. He let out a breath that bushed over her shoulder.

“This is not possible.” His words came out in a rush, as if someone had punched him just as he’d spoken. Keira glanced over her shoulder at him. His face had paled and he leaned one hand against the doorjamb. He glanced at Keira, his eyes burning. “Find her!”

Keira turned. “Was Erin feeling well tonight?”

The sheikh’s eyes flattened. Keira suddenly remembered this man’s ancestors had fought their way to power with sword and blades. “Find her now.”

She swallowed, muttered a quiet, “Yes, your royal highness,” and fled the room.

Outside, she almost bumped into Brock. “Erin’s gone. She went into the bathroom and didn’t come out.”

He stared at her. “That’s not possible.” He started to turn, but Keira put a hand on his arm. “You need to stand down,” he told her.

“You need to stop and think. Unless you want to spend the next two months taking this place apart with an axe—which I don’t think is good for Erin or anyone else, we need a plan.” Brock stopped and stared at her. “This is my op. Are you willing to listen to me?”

***

Brock escorted Keira down to the car waiting in the courtyard. She had her lips pressed tight, and anger just about radiated off of her, almost burning the fingers he had wrapped around her upper arm.

“Uh…boss?” Trent said, the words hesitant. He glanced from Brock to Keira.

“Stay out of this,” Brock said, his tone flat and low.

Trent swapped a glance with Travis, but both men backed down. PJ started to move forward, but Talib held her back.
Smart man
, Brock thought. Dammit, he did not like this—he hated it. He was pretty sure this was going to end up costing him—maybe even more than the SEALs had cost him Tayra. But he didn’t see a choice here. They needed to move on this fast to get Erin back.

In the courtyard, Keira yanked out of his grip. “I’m going to complain to Slade.”

“Great. You can do that from the airport. The plane’s waiting for you.”

In the moonlight and the glare of the courtyard lights, her face paled. The palace was lit up like a Christmas tree right now, and a room to room search was going on. Brock didn’t expect it to turn anything up, but it kept the sheikh’s guards occupied.

He saw her throat work. Her fists bunched at her sides. Her eyes filled with tears. The mad urge to take her in his arms lifted—but he couldn’t. He stepped back. She got into the car and it took off.

Heart tight in his chest and stomach churning, Brock watched the car drive away, taking Keira from him. “You’d better be safe,” he muttered to the night. If she wasn’t, he’d never forgive himself.

***

Keira sat in the back of the limo, her breathing fast. She popped open a water, gulped it down, and tried to steady herself. Wow—she was a better actress than she’d known. She was still pissed at Brock for taking over her op—well, almost.

She reached for the gun she’d tucked into her pants. A card came out with it and she glanced at it. A joker. Brock had slipped that in there when they’d gone back to her room for her to change—and to lay out the plan.

She smiled. Jokers were wild tonight, and that was her job. To be the wild card. She tapped on the driver’s shoulder. “Stop here.” He pulled over. “Keep going to the airport,” she told him and slipped from the car.

The moon was setting, leaving the night black and the stars icy shards overhead. Keira hiked back to the palace perimeter wall. She had no problem slipping over it. Alarms had been taken down so that the grounds could be searched.

She could hear the patrols—that was the problem with heavy boots and big guns, they clumped and clattered and unless you trained like crazy, you made noise. Heading for the palace, she passed the shrubs in the garden and made some notes to tell Talib—this was a little too easy right now. But Brock might be helping her with distractions on the inside—like reaming everyone a new one for sloppy work and letting Erin be taken a second time.

Except Keira was certain she hadn’t been taken.

At the terrace outside the palace, Keira hunched low in something that smelled good. Leaves tickled her skin and branches pricked her fingers. She picked her target. She needed everyone elsewhere right now.

Aiming at one of the potted plants on the far side of the palace, Keira pulled in a breath, held it, and squeezed off three shots. Two pots exploded, showering dirt and flowers onto the ground. She could hear the boots of guards as they ran for that spot.

Keira tucked her gun away and used the noise to cover her run and leap. She caught a rain gutter and climbed up to the second floor. Swinging over, she caught the rim of a balcony and hefted herself up. She smashed a window, opened the latch, and slipped inside.

Heart hammering, she stood still in the room. All good so far. She’d picked this room intentionally. Now, she hid herself behind one of the drapes and waited. She didn’t have long to wait.

She heard the creak of a door and a draft of air stirred the curtains, brushing them against her face. The door clicked shut. Footsteps padded across the carpet. Keira peeked out from her hiding spot. She saw a dark figure, a flash of color. A pale hand reached up to a carved pillar, and then a door opened and light spilled into the room in a streak that revealed Maela, dressed in black pants and shirt and carrying a tray.

Keira stepped out from behind the drapery. “Maela, it’s over. Erin needs to go back to her husband.”

Maela spun around. She shut the door, but not before Keira caught a glimpse of Erin, sleeping it looked like. She hoped so. Maela clattered the tray onto a side table. She stood in front of the hidden door, arms crossed. The ruby flashed on her finger—and Keira realized that was the key to opening the door. It wasn’t a ring, so much as a key.

“Your family has protected the sheikh’s family forever, has it not? I should have seen it before. Bint-Jamal—daughter of Jamal. He protected Sheikh Kamal’s father.”

Maela straightened. “You are not as foolish as you seemed.”

“No, that was an act. And I’m thinking now we should have clued you in on it. You sent us the warning, didn’t you? And you are also the person working on the inside. But it’s not to hurt Erin—it’s to protect her child.”

Gesturing to the tray, Maela asked, “How do you know I do not poison her?”

Keira stepped forward. The aromas—something spicy and warm—from the tray left her realizing it had to be almost morning, and she was hungry. She glanced at the tray, picked up a cup, and took a sip of what tasted like spiced tea. She drank it down. “No poison. You must think we’re all idiots.”

Maela’s black eyes glittered and her mouth settled into a smug curve. “You…perhaps not.”

“But the others—they let Erin be taken once. You started to worry. And then we show up, acting like clowns. A spoilt model…a guy who can’t take his eyes off of her. Talib in love with PJ and thinking more of her, or so it seems. You looked around and saw that the future ruler of Jawhara might be in danger. You sent the note—and still you did not see anything changing. I don’t blame you for taking action, but as you see…I’m not what you thought.”

“None of us are,” Brock said, stepping into the room.

Maela glanced at him, worry in her eyes now. She lifted her chin. “I don’t regret my action. Even if I lose my head. The baby must stay safe.”

“No one’s losing any heads.” Keira came forward. “Thank you for testing us. But I think we’d all sleep better if we start working together. Now can Erin get back to her rooms before the sheikh decides he needs to rip this place apart to find her?”

Maela gave a small nod. “She is asleep. I told her I would keep her safe, so she came with me. She is smart—she trusts me.”

“Well, I think we’d better have you in on all security meetings from now on. Brock, can you take Erin back to Sheikh Kamal?”

Brock gave a nod. Keira noticed he tucked his gun away—he’d had it out, just in case.
The man never trusts anyone
, Keira thought. But that wasn’t quite true. He’d trusted her tonight.

When Brock gathered Erin up from the bed in a luxurious safe room, she stirred. Brock muttered something to her; she smiled and fell asleep in his arms. He carried her back to her room, slipped her onto her bed, and left her sleeping with the sheikh standing watch over her.

Outside the room, Brock let out a breath. “Slade’s going to want a debriefing tomorrow, the sheikh’s going to want lots of explanations, and I’m going to want breakfast.”

Keira shrugged. “Well, don’t put Maela under arrest—you do and none of us will be eating.”

“Oh, I think we can spin her story for the sheikh so she comes out looking good. Her intentions were in the right place.”

“Yeah, but what’s that saying about good intentions paving the road to hell? This could have gone seriously bad.”

Brock nodded. “It didn’t. You did okay.”

She smiled and punched his arm. “I did great, and you know it. I expect Slade will want us reassigned now. Our covers are totally blown, so no need to keep acting.” She gave another shrug and forced a smile. She didn’t want to show him that her heart was breaking—no need to keep acting. It hadn’t been an act. Not with him. But how could she tell him that?

He gave a nod. “Better get some sleep if you can. It’ll be a long morning.” Turning, he headed for his room. She watched him go and she kept her lips pressed tight. She was not going to call out to him, or beg him for just one more night with him in her bed. She was not. But oh, how she wanted to.