Page 283 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

She checked her appearance in the mirror, pressing both hands against her stomach in an effort to still the queasy nervousness.

“You can do this,” she reminded herself. She really didn’t have a choice.

Remembering both the cameras and the listening devices, Aliya locked her lips to keep from saying anything more. It was time to leave. She just needed to keep her act together for a little while longer, then she would be free. That she would beleaving the ship without her watchful brother at her side was nothing short of phenomenal. She’d known he was supposed to be meeting with the Ugandan warlord, which is why she’d pushed so hard, but instead of sending her shopping with one of his witless bodyguards in tow, someone who might have been easy to evade or bribe for a little ‘time alone,’ he was sending her with his right-hand man, Christian Reid, a wrinkle she hadn’t counted on.

Christian was far more clever than the rest of his men. Better looking, too, although it still rankled how she couldn’t seem to keep herself from noticing. For the most part, her brother’s men were of Middle Eastern or North African descent. The only two exceptions were the band of six mercenaries he’d had Christian hire within the last year and Christian himself.

There was no mistaking the man’s white Anglo-Saxon heritage. Everything she knew about him was what she’d found in Fariq’s hidden employee files. He’d been born to a prominent Boston family and had made a name for himself in international banking, specializing in mergers and take-overs. He’d risen through the ranks in Fariq’s organization until he was her brother’s second-in-command and heir apparent. That made him every bit as bad as Fariq. More dangerous, too. He didn’t have Fariq’s familial affections to temper his behavior toward her.

The small chime on her antique mantle clock reminded her time was ticking away.

Turning from the mirror, she quickly packed her purse, ensuring the white headscarf she’d secreted in the false bottom remained there. It would hide her hair but do nothing to disguise her face—a pathetic camouflage, to be sure—but it was all she had, and perhaps in the crowded marketplace, it might suffice. While she was in her spacious closet, pretending to find the perfect heels for a day in Morocco’s bazaar, she checked to makesure the coded message with the address she needed was still folded into the strap handle. She’d been planning this for two days, ever since Fariq first promised she could leave the boat. She’d even placed the text call to the number supplied to her by her NATO handler. They would be waiting for her. No more passing along secret messages—she’d given them more than enough by now. This time, she was getting out for good.

Returning to the bathroom, her hands only shaking a little, she swapped out her SIM chip with the one her handler had given her long enough to text she was on her way. No reply came back, but none ever did. Switching the chips again, she tucked it into the tiny pocket in the handle of her purse as well, then she was ready.

Aliya couldn’t remember the last time Fariq had agreed to let her go anywhere without him. Escaping was going to be hard enough, but she didn’t know how she’d have been able to manage it with her brother glued to her side.

Not that I’ll be alone. No, she was going to have his second-in-command glued to her instead.

Funny, she’d never been close enough to the man to have so much as a conversation with him before today, and now, he was taking her into Morocco. She didn’t know how she felt about that, or about him, for that matter. He was tall, very blond, even for an American, and he was always watching her—those cool, blue eyes taking in everything, assessing, plotting, not smiling, not lusting… just watching.Even from across the ship or if she passed him on her way to or from the pool’s upper deck, whenever she caught him looking at her, she felt as if he were waiting for her to do something wrong, so he could pounce on it. Not that he’d ever so much as frowned at her, but he scared her more than a little, and that fear had led to many erotic dreams with Christian as the star.

She fussed with her hair again, needing to look her best. Not because she would be spending the day with Christian, but because life as Fariq’s little sister demanded it. Fariq wasn’t above scolding her and sending her back to her room to neaten her appearance if he thought she wasn’t lady-like enough. He might even call off the shopping trip altogether, and she couldn’t afford that.

Checking the mirror one last time, she left her room at what she hoped was a fashionable eleven minutes past the appointed time. She was surprised to find Christian waiting for her at the end of the hall instead of the boat launch or the back of the yacht. Dressed in black jeans and a light blue t-shirt that matched his eyes, he was propped up against the wall beyond the armed guards, near her brother’s room. When she emerged, he looked pointedly from her to his watch and back, then quirked an eyebrow. She probably should have warned him she tended to run late, but she was Fariq’s adored and spoiled sister, a role her brother and NATO both demanded she played. He was her brother’s lapdog, not her employee, and certainly not her friend. She checked the urge to apologize for her tardiness. After today, it wouldn’t matter, but until she made her escape, he would simply have to be content dancing to the tune the ‘spoiled baby sister’ called.

Still, she was behaving badly, and she knew it. Ignoring his silent rebuke was easier than stifling the heated burn that ignited the smoldering embers both in the pit of her stomach and in her face, and that annoyed her. Who did he think he was? He had no right to scold her, although she did wonder more often than she wanted to admit, what it might feel like to belong to someone like Christian Reid—strong hands like his fondling her, to feel the large, hard cock that often strained at his fly caress her in the most intimate way.

Get a hold of yourself, Aliya.He was a chaperone, little better than a bodyguard, and he had no idea what she had to do today. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders as she walked down the hall to join him. She didn’t owe him anything, much less an explanation why it had taken her so long to get ready.

When she neared, he held up a wallet marked with her brother’s initials, FA. That startled her. Was he actually going to let her be in control of the money? No one had ever done that before. Not that it mattered. She took it from him as if this were something she did all the time and kept going without a word.

He tsked, a censuring click of his tongue against his teeth, and her face burned even hotter. Was he admonishing her again? What for, and why did she care? Except she did. Yes, she was being rude, but she had a reason for it. She was leaving, she told herself yet again, growing aggravated with herself. The last thing she needed to worry about was what someone like Christian Reid thought of her!

When she hiked her chin and kept going, he tsked again. Like nails on a chalkboard, she was quickly coming to hate that sound.

“What?” she said in her best bored and entitled tone.

“Princess?” he murmured, his lips barely moving as if he had no idea to what she was referring.

It was all she could do to tear her eyes away from those lips and the mouth she fantasized might one night play where only her own fingertips had dared to in the past. She mentally shook herself to break her reverie. She needed to focus.

“Don’t call me that,” she huffed.

The pet name grated even more than the tsking did. Annoyed with her own inability to ignore him, she glared back over her shoulder but didn’t slow her pace as she headed for the stairs. Three floors down on the bottom deck, her way to freedom wasbeing prepared. The faster she got to the boat, the faster she would be out of here, and the safer she would be.

He’d tsked three times in a row.

Stopping abruptly, she turned on him.

“If you have something to say to me, then say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Smiling, he stepped around her and calmly took the lead away from her.

She broke into a jog to take it back, tsking vindictively as she passed him again.

“Ah, that.” He followed her down the next flight of deck stairs as she led the way to the rear of the yacht. “Just an observation.”

That rankled.

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