She thought over the brief. Erin Malone was key to making this work. If the woman proved difficult, that could make the job all but impossible. But Erin’s background suggested someone smart—expensive education at Harvard, background working in New York before she’d gone international, and then a whirlwind romance. The girl was lucky, that was for sure. But not so lucky that bad things couldn’t happen to her.
The Sheikh’s fiancée had recently been kidnapped for political reasons. How traumatized had that left Erin? The sheikh’s brother, Khalil, was also recently married, and that worried Keira, too. Guys in love tended to go stupid. Two men in power, both of them still in that starry-eyed phase of a relationship, might be easy targets.
Shifting on the leather, Keira gazed out the darkened limo window. She’d always dreamed about traveling—about seeing the world. She’d never thought she’d be doing it as a security specialist. Her pulse quickened, but not in a bad way. This was going to be fun.
Jawharan was a tiny country that had never even made it onto most maps. Oil rich, Jawharan could be a target for terrorists or takeover. But the sheikh had been smart about making good allies; just about everyone—Russia, US, and China—wanted a stable government here to keep the oil flowing. It was those inside the country who could make the most trouble—the ones who wanted to replace the El-Jawhara family.
Watching the scenery pass—high rises and a nice stretch of beach—Keira thought the main city looked almost like any other western capital, except for the occasional veiled women on the street, or the men still wearing the traditional clothing of robes and the banded scarves on their heads. The writing was mostly in Arabic, but she glimpsed some signs in English. She also saw donkey carts hauling wood, fruits, and vegetables. Jawhara looked like an interesting mix of old and new.
Tapping one newly buffed fingernail, she thought about how she was supposed to meet up with PJ—a freelancer Slade used occasionally.
Phylis Jerome—but no one ever called PJ anything but PJ—was another complication. She’d become involved with someone here, so she’d be leaving Slade Security behind. That was the trouble with romance—emotions messed with your mind. Slade had drummed that lesson into Keira, but she was still struggling to master the Zen-like detachment that made Slade—and Brock—two of the best. Her problem wasn’t losing her heart, but losing her head when her temper heated up.
Well, at least the cover of her being Erin’s best friend from her New York days would prove easy. She had that cover down pat—a fashion model who worked the runways, and the only trouble she’d had was finding places to secure her slim Kel-Tec PMR-30 pistol.
She had on a mini that covered the essentials, and a huge Coach handbag covered the rest of her essentials—her .22 and a few other tricks she liked to keep handy. Jimmy Choo heels, gold earrings from Cartier, and lots of tan on display served up the rest of her distraction.
The houses thinned out and the limo turned off the main road and onto a narrow lane. It paused in front of iron gates before heading up a winding road and finally drifting to a stop. She fixed her lipstick, checked her reflection in the rear view mirror, and slipped into the role she was here to perform. Smile on, girl.
The driver opened the door for her, and she slid across the seat and stepped into a garden courtyard. The house—okay, maybe mansion or a full out palace—looked to be three floors with an arched colonnade that enclosed the center courtyard on three sides.
Gates barred the front and she noted with approval guards in discreet suits, with obvious bulges and ear buds. She pegged the gardeners tending to the lush display of flowers as more security—either that or she really did look great, going by the way they were stopping to check her out.
She gave the grounds a quick once over for fast exits. Over the roof was possible, but the tile would be slick underfoot, and it’d be easy to fall. She’d have to look for other options. The house sat on a hilltop, judging by the view down to the high-rises in the city. She looked at the house again.
The place smelled of flowers—jasmine maybe, she thought. Roses. Lush green things, and a soft breeze brushed her skin like a caress.
She had no trouble with an easy grin. Okay, so I could get used to living someplace like this.
She gave the driver a flirty smile, tossed her hair back, and then a man stepped out of the shadowed colonnade. Tensing, she eyed him. But she’d know that guy anywhere.
Brock stood well over six feet with muscles hidden under a loose suit and an open-neck shirt that left him able to move smoothly and quietly, like a man who used his body a lot.
Startling green eyes glittered. Her heartbeat kicked up. She didn’t know if she was supposed to know him or not in this job, but damn, he looked fine. It also looked like Brock was finally letting his hair grow out of that military buzz cut. Who would have known he had shots of gold in the brown.
Swallowing hard, she kept to her act. She slipped on her sunglasses to hide any expression and kept her face neutral.
Brock would let her know how to play this. What she didn’t expect was for him to come up, grab her, dip her back in his arms, and kiss her like he loved her.
Chapter 3
Brock was enjoying this—well as much as he could, given that his first instinct was to grab Keira and get her out of here. He did not like the idea of her heading into the field, but Slade insisted she was not only ready but needed to spread her wings. Slade had also said this was a milk run, and that was proving to be wrong, too.
Watching the limousine pull up in front of the palace, Brock kept to the shadows. It was hot enough that he didn’t mind a little shade. Sweat stuck the back of his shirt to his skin. He stared at the pair of very tan, very bare, and very long legs that had emerged from the car. Keira had always had attitude, he had to give her that.
She glanced around like she was thinking of buying the place. Then it was time for him to dive in and let her know plans had changed. This supposed walk-in-the-park job had shifted from something easy for her to tackle for the first operation she was running to a heads-up deal.
It looked like it could go south all too easily, and he’d already had a fight with Slade about leaving her here. Slade insisted it was still a good job for her to tackle. He was probably right, but that didn’t mean Brock had to like it. Still, he had to get the job done.
Since he didn’t have much time to brief her on the changes, he used the best way he knew how to get close to her fast.
Stepping out of the shadows, he wrapped her in a hug, then bent her backwards in his arms. Her eyes went wide. He sealed his mouth to hers before she could say anything and blow his all too new cover.
For a second, she stiffened. But she went with it, opening her mouth to his, fitting her body to his demands like she’d done this a thousand times.
She kissed like a dream—one he’d been having ever since he’d met her. That lush mouth of hers lived up to its promise of sin. Her scent wrapped around him, something with spice in it, ginger maybe. He had one hand on her ass, the other wrapped around her trim waist, and her bare legs tangled with his. His heart seemed to stop and restart and he barely held on to the idea that this was for show. They were only playacting. His body didn’t think that.
He went hard fast, and his heart rate kicked up higher than usual.