Page 91 of Defenders of Jawhara

Brock glanced around. The habit was automatic—you sized up the scene to make sure it was safe. Always.

Keira’s room looked different from his. Thick, patterned carpets, big furniture, and a lot of drapery. Carved wood decorated the walls with pillars and elaborate doorways—sandalwood and cedar, he expected, both local to Jawhara. The effect was like being in a tent, but he found all of that heavy fabric a little stuffy and was glad his room was more sparse.

Lots of furniture and accessories meant more places for bugs to be planted and people to hide. He grabbed his phone and tapped a radio app, chose a country music station, and turned up the volume.

Keira wrinkled her nose. “Couldn’t you find some real music?”

Ignoring her question, he asked, “You think she used the window to get out?”

Keira shoved a hand into her messy hair. “Locked from the inside. I’m going to need another look at that room.”

“I’ll talk to Talib—he knows every corner of this place.”

She flopped into a chair and pulled off her heels. “I read the brief, but you’ve been here for a few weeks and had the chance to get to know many of the staff. What are they really like? Is there anyone we should be concerned about?”

Brock wandered over to the window and glanced out. From here, he could see down to the party in the garden. It looked like Prince Khalil and his new wife were about to cut the cake. He turned away, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and moved so he had his back to the bed. He didn’t need to see that, either. With Keira in the room, a bed seemed like far too much temptation.

She had tucked her feet up under her and was rubbing her toes. He had to look away from that, too. It was a job he wanted all too much.

“They’re good people. Prince Khalil and Slade were college roommates and remained friends after Harvard, and Slade has been cozy with Kam, Sheikh Kamal, about as long.” Heading to the small fridge in the room, Brock dug out two bottles of sparkling water. He handed one to Keira. “If you read the brief, you know just about everything you need to know. Kam and Erin were married a month ago, here at the palace, after her kidnapping by that extremist from Sumari. Kamal flew her parents over, and they’re planning on leaving in the next day or two to return to the US. Kale and Shira moved up their wedding plans after finding out about some chatter about concerns over whether Jawhara was becoming too western. The brothers aren’t willing to back down when it comes to love.”

Pausing with the water halfway to her mouth, Keira stared at him. “Who knows about the baby?”

“At this point, pretty much everyone. Erin has been plagued by morning sickness and has been under the care of the palace physician. She’s in her second trimester now and the nausea hasn’t been as bad, but she still has days where she has trouble eating.”

“Poor woman. Does she have any PTSD from what happened?”

Brock shrugged. He kept prowling around the room. Stopping at a desk, he picked up a deck of cards and cut it. “She’s still a little jumpy, but she refuses to let it slow her down. But it takes people different ways. This morning, PJ gifted both cousins with pendants to wear. They have a heart rate monitor and a GPS locator beacon. We’ve got trackers on all of them now—even the sheikh, but he hated the idea.”

Keira nodded. “Good call, but this is my operation, and I wish I’d been told this before I got here. I would have suggested something else. A woman still in the newlywed phase isn’t likely to be wearing anything in private, and since we don’t know how that woman got out of that room, those pendants aren’t going to be much good if they aren’t wearing them.”

The image popped into his head of Keira wearing nothing more than her bra and panties. She was still slim—model thin. But she had curves in all the right places now, and small, pert breasts that would just fit in his palms. Sweat popped on his upper lip and his heart rate kicked up. He drank down his sparkling water; let the wetness cool his jets a little.

“Yeah, well, PJ told them to keep it on. If either of them gets into trouble, all they have to do is grip the crystal in their palm. The extra heat activates an alarm. I should get you one of those.”

Keira gave a snort. “Save it for the clients.”

“I’m here to watch your back too.”

Standing, Keira stretched. “Well, you can just watch it from downstairs. I don’t think anything’s going to happen in that crowd downstairs, but you never know. I need a hot bath and two hours of sleep.”

“And then?” Brock asked.

She started for the bathroom, throwing a grin over her shoulder at him. “Then we’re going to do some prowling and see just how good security is around here. In fact, you might want to consider this a review of your work.” She smirked.

Brock shook his head. “We get caught, that blows your cover. You’re supposed to be Erin’s friend, and you can’t get caught sneaking around.”

“You said it yourself—we may have an inside leak, meaning it’s not the guys breaking in who we have to worry about. It’s someone living inside this palace. So get your sweet ass outside and come back in two hours—oh, and turn that horrible music off, will you?”

Brock watched her head into the bathroom. She’d left the door open a crack and he heard water running. If he hung out, he might get another glimpse of her—oh, how that tempted him.

But this was work—they had a job. Grabbing his phone, he turned off the app and headed out, keeping his eyes straight ahead, but that didn’t help him keep his mind on the job. He was seeing Keira, naked in a tub, dressed only in bubbles, those endless legs of hers stretched up and out.

Throat dry, he stepped out of her room and shut the door firmly behind him. This was one assignment that was going to test his resolve, and he wasn’t sure if he was worried or excited.

7

The evening passed without any excitement. Keira soaked for a half hour, got out, dressed in loose, dark sweats, and caught a half hour nap. She didn’t want jet lag hitting at a bad time. The music outside changed from upbeat numbers to ballads and slow tunes. The party wound down and the crowd thinned, and Keira would bet hard money that not a single person noticed that she’d disappeared. Once the palace settled and most everyone had gone to bed, Brock knocked quietly on her door. Dressed similarly in dark clothes, he gave her a nod and they slipped out of her room.

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