Keira followed her gaze and asked, “Okay, what’s with the gorgeous guard over there? The tall, dark, and sexy one who keeps watching you like you’re on the menu tonight?”
With a shrug, PJ leaned close. “He is kind of gorgeous, isn’t he? He’s Talib, and he’s mine. So hands off.” She snagged something off one of the trays being passed around and offered it to Keira. It was spicy and sweet at the same time, and Keira wondered if she could get more of it.
Eyebrows lifting, she also watched the tall man—Talib—walk across the garden and join them. He was worth watching. He moved like a dancer, all grace and ease. He had the swarthy coloring of most Jawhara men, but he had finer features, she thought, and his dark hair had been swept back—it just about begged for a woman’s fingers to disorder the strands. When he was close enough, she stuck out her hand. “I’m Keira Mantz. So you’re the thief who’s stealing PJ away, huh?”
He gave a small nod, but instead of shaking her hand, he kissed the back of it and gave her a small bow. He draped an arm over PJ’s shoulder. “Welcome to Jawhara. I saw you with Erin a few minutes ago. It looked like you were old friends.”
Keira kept her smile in place. She knew Talib from the brief. Head of security, a good man it seemed. He must have been let in on the cover story by PJ, but she wasn’t breaking her role for anyone. Not in public. “Excuse me. I should mingle and give you two time alone.” She gave them a wink.
PJ called out, “Let’s get together tomorrow over breakfast and catch up.”
Keira waved and headed into the crowd. She scooped up another cup of tea—it really was good—and paused next to the Larson brothers. “Hey, boys. How about some photos of me and for me?” She struck a pose, hip jutting out and glass to her lips. She’d taken enough classes that she could make her cover plausible.
Travis was working video, but Trent turned and took a shot. He gave her a cocky grin. “Looking good.”
Keira batted her eyelashes. “As always.” A tingle lifted the hair on the back of her neck. She glanced around and saw Brock staring at her from across the expanse of the summer-warmed garden.
The memory of their kiss—of him bending her back and sealing his lips to hers—flitted through her. The feeling…disturbed her. Hell, Brock bothered her like crazy. The guy was too big, too masculine, and way too pushy. She laid a hand on Trent’s arm. She had to get Brock out of her head, out of her senses. She leaned close to Trent.
He smelled of something lime scented—not an unpleasant aroma, but not exciting either. His shaggy hair brushed her cheek. She asked, “Seen anything good?”
“Nothing exciting.” His blue eyes seemed as innocent as an angel’s, and Keira nodded. So far, all was staying quiet. She smiled. This job might actually end up being a win for her.
“Keep looking. You never know what’s around the next corner.” Patting his arm, she smiled, and drifted back into the crowd. But she couldn’t lose that awareness of Brock.
He was working the crowd, too, mingling, brushing up against men in robes—and women, too. At least the ones in western dress. That left the women in traditional garb for her.
They clustered together, and she headed over to them, figuring fashion could serve as the universal language. She was right. It seemed like they all wanted to touch her dress and finger the silk chiffon. She took the opportunity to sneak peeks under their robes when they showed off the designer gowns they had on underneath.
She did a count of forty-three women in traditional dress—but when she glanced around again, one of the women had left the party. Keira frowned at that. Had the woman not been feeling well? Did she disapprove of the modern music? Or had she been hiding something underneath her veils?
Keira headed back to Trent. She put a hand on his muscular arm and let her finger trail down the sleeve of his suit. “How about a tour of this place?” She wanted to make sure that woman in the head-to-toe hijab who’d disappeared had really left. She also wanted to show Brock she didn’t need him looking over her shoulder for every single move.
She was sure Trent would get the message in her eyes that she meant business. She could certainly feel Brock’s stare on her. She could just about picture the irritation flashing in his eyes, too.
Trent gave a nod. “I think that could be arranged.” He looked at Travis. “That okay with you?”
Travis shrugged. “Your funeral, bro.” He glanced at Trent and then gave a long, meaningful look at Brock. “You two better know what you’re doing. And you better get to doing it, fast.”
Trent gave his brother a thumbs-up and a grin that left Trent looking about seventeen. He took Keira by the elbow to escort her back into the palace.
Behind them, Keira heard Travis’ voice rise.
Ah, that must be Brock asking what the hell was going on. Well, good, she thought. This was her operation to run, and she was not going to let Brock step all over it, and all over her.
She was going to use Trent to teach Brock a lesson about assuming she’d be willing to step into the back seat. She was going to do her own recon on the palace. She would show him that she wasn’t going to jeopardize the reason they were all in Jawhara. The mission always came first, and nothing could trump that.
Chapter 6
Holding her by the elbow, Trent led her back inside the palace. The place was huge, she’d decided. It had two wings off of the main building and three floors. She’d seen more marble in the last half hour than she’d ever seen before. Most of the rooms had French doors that opened onto a stone terrace overlooking the gardens.
She figured the entire area had to be fenced, and she’d glimpsed guards on the perimeter. This room was like all of the others she’d seen so far—big, high ceilings, colorful drapery, beautiful art, and furniture that invited you to sit and stay a spell.
Trent steered her behind a half-wall. He pushed on a wall panel and a door opened. She leaned in and looked up a narrow stairway. “I’ll show you where you’ll be staying. That should slow Brock down long enough for you to tell me what the hell is going on between you two,” Trent said.
Keira looked at him and widened her eyes. “What makes you think there’s anything going on?”
Rolling his eyes, Trent let out a breath. He started up the stairs. “I’ve known Brock a long time; as in, really long. I’ve never seen him go into that kind of protective mode with anyone except a client. Why is that?”