“Is it? You’ve still got your walls up, too, Brock. Keeping people safe by keeping them back. Doesn’t always work.”
“Like you have to tell me that,” Brock said. He thought back to Tayra, his ex. They’d married straight out of high school and she’d stuck it out with him for six years. He could count on his fingers the number of days he’d actually been home.
She’d finally had enough on Brock’s last mission with the SEALs. He’d gotten her letter in South America. He hadn’t seen her since. Tayra had moved back to Oregon to live with her sister and had asked Brock to stay away. It’d been like a blow to him. He never wanted to put any woman into that tough spot again.
He certainly wasn’t going to do that to someone with Keira’s potential. But he also didn’t want her getting in over her head in this job. “Slade, just what angle are you working here? Do you trust Keira to run things, or do you want me taking over for her?”
“Think of this more as setup for a long game. I want you to think about staying on in Jawhara and working with Talib and PJ—which means you need to get to know them. Keira might even fit into that equation.”
“Fit? Slade, are you playing matchmaker?” Brock asked. “I’m not sure if I should be mad about that or just mildly upset.”
“Don’t waste the time you’ve got, Brock. Now get back to work. I’ll expect a report in a couple of days. And remember it’s not just about trusting Keira, you know. You should look to trusting yourself a little more, buddy.”
Brock hung up. He sat in his car, the air conditioner humming, blowing cool air on his face. He had a lot to think about—and all of it kept coming back to Keira. Did Slade trust her? What was this long game of his? Did Slade want a new division of the company set up here? It would make sense to have operations that could cover the Middle East—but what about that crack about Keira fitting?
Turning around, Brock headed back to the palace. First, however, he had a stop to make; because there was no way could he ever come back to Keira empty handed.
***
It took Keira a half an hour to complete a tour of the palace—it was like one huge hotel. By the time she found Brock, her temper had reached a low simmer. She’d gone up to her room to change into shorts, a sleeveless top, and sandals. Now, sweat stuck her shirt to her back, her feet had started to ache, and she had no trouble putting on a petulant pout.
She was here to perform a very important job, and she took that very seriously. It seemed to her like Brock was goofing off.
She found him tossing car keys to one of the guards in the courtyard. The car looked expensive and sporty—something convertible and sleek. Brock gave her a smile, as if he expected her to do some melting into his arms.
Arms crossed, she demanded, “Where have you been?”
“Think I’m cheating on you?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.
She slapped his hand and stepped away from him. “I’ve been looking for you all morning. Why didn’t you tell me you were going into town?”
“Miss me?”
“Did you buy me anything?”
“Sweets for my sugar.” He offered her the bag of honey candy he’d bought on his drive back from the city.
She took it and put it down on a side table. “I’m on a diet.”
“I thought you were also hanging out with the other women today.” He linked his arm with hers and pulled her with him. He took her into a room lined with books and without windows.
Out of the sunlight, the air cooled. So did her temper. But she still had a role to play. She kept her pout in place and propped one hand on her hip. “Erin hasn’t stepped out of her room. PJ went to meet up with Talib. I’m bored!”
Brock flopped down on an overstuffed couch. He scooted over, making room for her. He’d worn trousers and an open-necked white shirt that gaped now to show the cords of his tanned neck. “Have a seat. The room’s clean. Talib sweeps it twice a day. So it’s the one room—other than the sheikh’s private apartment –that we know is totally secure.”
She shook her head and moved over to a decanter filled with what looked like lemon water. “Want a drink?”
He shook his head. “Shira and Khalil probably won’t leave the palace for the next several days. But they’re planning on doing some travelling at the end of the month, and you and I will go with them, along with several of their own bodyguards.”
She poured water into a cut crystal glass and turned to face him. The crystal bit into her finger—she loosened her hold. “No, we’re not going with them. PJ and Talib can keep an eye on Khalil and his gal. We’re going to stay on the sheikh and Erin.”
Brock nodded. “If that’s how you want to play it. Might be a good idea. There’s a high probability the insurgents from Sumari will try to infiltrate the palace again.”
“How do you know this?”
“History repeating itself. Rebels have set a target—they don’t tend to back down from that.”
Frowning, she came over to his side and sat down. “That’s not how they got Erin the first time.”