“Ah—you read the report. They did infiltrate the guards—I’m worried about a repeat of that. But Erin was taken at a refugee camp that’s not far from the main city.”
“So I read. What I’m wondering is what was she doing in the refugee camp? It’s the last place a woman like her should have been—way too much exposure, too many variables.”
“Yeah, well, Erin’s a humanitarian at heart. She saw an injustice and sought to right it. The insurgents took advantage of her soft heart.”
Swirling her water, Keira shook her head. “The sheikh must have been furious—with her and with his own guards.”
“That’s an understatement. No guy wants to feel like he failed to look out for his girl. Anyway, that’s what led to PJ setting up the tracking pendants. Shira is being given one similar to Erin’s today.”
“Nice of Slade to brief me on that tech.”
“Don’t bother asking Slade about anything like that. He’s not a detail man. The pendants are a Lawson special.”
“The surfer boys?” Keira asked. “Trent and Travis? I thought they were mostly here as eye-candy and to really take photos we might need later.”
Brock laughed. “That’s their best cover. They look like they ought to be the models on a photo shoot, not be the ones holding the cameras. But don’t underestimate those two. Slade trained them both, and started them young. They’re all smiles until the fighting starts. Also, a word of caution. Stay close to the palace. Don’t go out without company. Tensions are high enough that you might just become the next target.”
Keira frowned at him. “You really think I came down in last night’s rain, don’t you? Slade briefed me. The Sumari government has assured Sheikh Kamal that they dealt with the rebels…blah, bla
h, blah. Typical politicians. Plenty of double-speak, but there’s no way Sumari could have gotten all of the rebels. If they had, they’d be boasting about it, not trying to put a lid on things.” She stood. “Think I’ll grab a swim and some sun before dinner.”
Brock stood. “Dinner? What about lunch?”
She glanced back at him and handed him her glass of water. “Honey, I’m a model. That water was my lunch.”
***
Time by the pool gave Keira a chance to check out the perimeter security. Young guys, all of them—gardeners as well as more obvious guards—looked tense and alert. They were ready for anything coming at them from the outside. What if the threat really was from within?
She left the pool after an hour, headed to her room, and changed into a light-blue dress with long, sheer sleeves. She slipped on matching flats and checked the watch that Brock had given her. The damn thing kept terrible time, but it looked great, the diamonds flashing. She jigged her wrist to make the diamonds flash again.
Before heading downstairs, she sent PJ a quick text. “Who’s my maid?” PJ would understand the code—Keira wanted a list of the staff who worked here. She’d gotten a guest list, and that had included about six royal cousins. Royal pains, she’d guess. The sheikh had a large family, and most of them seemed happy to hang around, not doing much of anything. She wanted to know about the ones who weren’t so happy. Meaning she needed to get in on the gossip.
She headed for the kitchen. Maela Bint-Jamal had been with the family for decades—she basically ran the palace, supervising everything. If anyone knew the scoop on all of the guests, it would be Maela.
Keira stepped into the cavernous kitchen and glanced around. Three chefs seemed to be working on dinner, with two more cutting and prepping the food. The place looked like a zoo—well, okay, more like a commercial kitchen, given all the stainless steel and Aga ovens. Keira stepped out again and headed for the dining room. She found an older woman who had to be Maela in a server black suit, directing three young men in black shirts and pants on how to set the table.
Putting on her best smile, Keira stopped in the doorway. “Wow, looks like twenty for dinner.”
Maela turned a dark-eyed stare on Keira. Her face tightened and for an instant, Keira had the feeling she’d already met this woman—and had made an enemy. She shivered. The older woman’s face relaxed, and Keira could almost believe she’d imagined that instant of enmity.
Smiling, Maela said something to the young men and walked over to face Keira. “Dinner won’t be until eight. You might want to take a walk in the gardens until then.” She turned away, and Keira knew she’d been dismissed. So much for striking up a friendship.
Keira deliberately made her way to the library—not the gardens. She spent her time on her smart phone, doing additional background research on the country, its customs, and its uncertain relations with its neighbor in Sumari. It was the sort of stuff anyone might look up; so if anyone was tracking her smart phone, they’d think she was coming up with dinner conversation.
By the time a bell sounded to announce dinner, Keira’s stomach was growling and she was regretting not having eaten lunch. She rose and stepped from the library in time to see Brock coming downstairs. He’d dressed up in a suit and tie—and Keira almost forgot about food. Brock wore his suits like a second skin. His broad shoulders filled out the jacket. The dark blue of his suit set off his red-gold hair. A faint dusting of beard glowed gold on his cheeks.
He came to her and offered his arm. “Regretting not eating that candy?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
He took her into dinner. PJ was already here, but Talib wasn’t. “Duty,” PJ muttered, rolling her eyes. The other guest drifted in, including Shira and Khalil. Those two seemed to have eyes only for each other—they looked more like the newest newlyweds, Keira thought.
They also wouldn’t have noticed a threat if it came in riding a tiger. Keira decided she’d better double their security. The sheikh and Erin were the last to arrive. Scattered applause met them. Sheikh Kamal bowed, but it was Erin who just about glowed.
Hell, if every woman in this palace doesn’t know she’s pregnant, I’ll eat my Jimmy Choo’s, Keira decided.
Erin ate next to nothing, but Keira tucked in as if she weren’t a model looking after her figure. A woman next to her watched her take thirds of something that smelled like lamb and mint, and Keira smiled. “I can always throw up later,” she said. The woman turned away, looking horrified. Keira felt eyes on her and turned to see Brock smile and lift his water glass to her.