The Protector

by Cristin Harber

  Jane dropped her head onto his shoulder, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. Tears pricked. Soon, she’d have to let him go, and that pained her. A realization hit her as though symbols had crashed in her ears. He wasn’t just the good-looking white knight with a backside she liked to ogle. He was the man who saved her life, who lived on the other side of the world, and who she’d fallen for somewhere on their journey through the depths of hell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Transitions happened quickly. From the helicopter, Jane was bustled in and out of a military hospital for a speedy medical check—her sunburns and blisters were far worse than she’d thought—and then into a heavily guarded, private waiting room at a military airport.

  Now alone, and with nothing to do but resist the urge to pick at her blistered skin, Jane let herself recount her conversation—likely the last conversation—with Chance at the hospital.

  He’d told her that the Thane family had been evacuated, and Teddy was blissfully binging on cartoon videos. Chance explained that arrangements had been made for her to meet the Thanes in Abu Dhabi. She had been drowsy during their conversation, having slept fitfully whenever she could. But, she also recalled Chance mentioning that his team was stationed in the same city.

  Her foot tapped on the tile floor. Why had he mentioned he lived in Abu Dhabi? Why hadn’t she paid more attention to his tone? Hello, Jane. Catching up on sleep and water took precedent over reading between the lines with a man who was far, far out of her league.

  She crossed her arms, and a wave of pain burned over her shoulders. She clenched her fingers and took a slow breath, reminding herself that she’d refused pain killers. Imagine how foggy her memory would have been if she let the doctors numb her pain. She wouldn’t have remembered Chance mentioning how he lived in Abu Dhabi.

  “That doesn’t matter now,” Jane told the empty waiting room. She could endlessly analyze the reasons he’d mentioned Abu Dhabi, but his motivations simply didn’t matter. They made no plans to see each other again, and she’d been far too chicken to suggest it herself.

  Why hadn’t she, though? An invitation to recount the horrors of their last few days didn’t exactly yell romance. He could show her around a city she’d likely never visit again. Jane had only needed to open her mouth and ask.

  Or not. Alone in a waiting room, as clearheaded as she’d been in days, Jane couldn’t fathom an invitation beyond the musings of a horny cavewoman.

  Me Jane. You hot.

  Yeah, that wouldn’t work with Chance. She imagined that he regularly declined invitations from other damsels in distress—ugh! Did Jane just lump herself into a distressed damsel category? Not a chance—

  “Hey, Mary Poppins.” Chance strode into the waiting room, clean-shaven and more handsome than he’d ever been. “I caught you.”

  “Chance.” Jane jumped from her chair then faltered, clinging to the last thread of her dignity. She ignored the impulse to throw herself into his arms like she was the leader of the Distressed Damsels Society. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  “Turns out, we’re headed out now, too.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Some of the team is back there, but I knew where you were and had a minute.”

  Why had he known where she was? Her heart skipped a beat, and she swallowed around the awkward knot in her chest. “I’m glad.”

  He crossed the waiting room. “If I’d known we’d be airborne at the same time, you could’ve ridden back with us—” He grinned. “Turns out our jet’s nicer than what the billionaire could muster for you.”

  “Next time.” She laughed as though the working-vacation from hell would ever happen again.

  Jane expected him to leave, but he stepped closer. Only two feet remained between them. She could extend her arm and touch his chest, and that thought made her nerves dance. If her chair hadn’t been directly behind her, she would’ve backed away. The air crackled and sizzled when he stood this close and taking a normal breath seemed impossible.

  “You should know.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You were a total badass out there.”

  Jane choked and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  His head cocked to the side, and the corner of his deep blue eyes tightened. Chance met her gaze. “Don’t believe me?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Well, Jane.” He inched into her personal space, not letting her gaze drop. “You should.”

  The pounding beat of her pulse thumped in her ears. If he couldn’t hear her heartbeat, he was deaf. And, he wasn’t. The man heard the step of faraway enemies and the rotors on helicopters beyond where the eye could see. Heat rose up Jane’s neck. Her cheeks flushed. Damn him; he didn’t back away and knew his effect on her.

  “Next time,” she managed.

  The corners of his lips quirked. “Next time.”

  This was her opportunity. She could ask him on a date. Fate had thrown them together one more time just in case she found the nerve.

  After I shave my legs and triple wash my hair, would you be interested in another night alone with me?

  Or, not. Because, they’d been there, done the private overnight, and she had the blisters to prove it.

  He was just as capable of asking her out. More so, probably. But he didn’t. Meaning… he wasn’t interested. The man before her wasn’t the type to ignore what he wanted.

  That was what she should ask him. What did he want? Standing that close, smelling that good, what the hell did he want—

  “Midas,” a voice bellowed from outside the door.

  Chance licked his bottom lip and pivoted toward the door.

  Jane recognized Hagan’s voice when he called again, “Where you at, brother?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged. “I guess it’s time for you to go.”

  His jaw ticked. “Sounds like it.”

  The waiting room door flew open. “Chance?” Hagan bound into the small space. “What the—hey, Jane.” His gaze quickly cut between them then he turned for the door, pausing long enough to add, “Waiting on you, bud. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Hagan disappeared, and Jane couldn’t fill her lungs.

  “Jane,” Chance said in a careful way that made her throat burn with unshed tears.

  Embarrassed, she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I hate goodbyes.” At least she did with him.

  Chance extended his hand to her. She wasn’t sure if she could take his hand because this was their goodbye. She tried to reason with herself. The meaning she’d assigned to her rescuer was irrational. This wild rollercoaster of emotions was a byproduct of her trauma.

  With that, she met his grip then forced her chin up.

  His stormy eyes met her watery ones, and his tough, warm hand surrounded hers trembling one. Her heartbeat raced like a lawless locomotive, and she couldn’t help it. Hot tears fell down her cheeks.

  Chance swore and pulled her to his chest. His arms wrapped around her, hiding her distress until she could pull herself together.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his chest.

  He rubbed her back and dropped his chin onto her head. “Don’t be. It happens.”

  This is what his Damsels do. This was what always happened. Jane squeezed her eyes shut and hated how foolish she felt.

  From outside the waiting room, someone other than Hagan called for Midas. Chance hugged Jane tight enough to make her sunburn scream. She’d take that pain again and again if he didn’t have to leave.

  Chance kissed the top of her head and pulled away. “I have to go.” Then he left without looking over his shoulder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Every step that Chance took away from Jane made him sick with guilt. He should have stayed away, but hell if he couldn’t stop himself.

  That was only the first thing he shouldn’t have done in the last ten minutes. He shouldn’t have held her, and he sure as fuck shouldn’t have kissed t
he top of her head.

  What had he been thinking? He hadn’t.

  Even if he had, he couldn’t have guessed that those few minutes would amount to the closest he ever felt to another person. Fully clothed and at an airport, that had been the most intimate embrace of his life.

  He returned to where his teammates had been. The area was empty, and he was thankful for a few more seconds to get his ass in gear.

  Chance rubbed the back of his neck then grabbed his go bag and strode out to the tarmac where Titan Group’s sleek jet waited.

  A few dozen yards away, a far crappier propeller plane readied for Jane. His molars grounded. The Thanes were assholes. If they wanted, they could’ve transported her home on a chariot padded with gold-threaded pillows. But nope, the billionaires didn’t go out of their way for their employees.

  Chance shifted his bag onto the other shoulder and charged up the stairs. Cool air conditioning from their jet hit him before he ducked in. He made his way to an open seat and ignored Hagan’s expectant expression. “Not now.”

  Hagan let out a long, slow whistle.

  That was all the conversation they would have about Jane. Chance settled into a seat as the lights dimmed. He unwrapped a set of noise-canceling earbuds from a console panel and dropped his head back, closing his eyes. The earbuds dulled the jet’s engines but didn’t do a damn thing to quiet his mind.

  What if Jane hadn’t been a client?

  What if he didn’t live in another country?

  What if he never experienced that zap of chemistry with another woman again?

  Their electricity burned deeper than he knew possible. Jane Singleton had a smart-mouth and a strong body. He could easily explain his attraction, but he didn’t understand their magnetic pull. How could he fix what he couldn’t comprehend?

  ***

  Of all the cliché things that Jane could’ve done, she opted for the most pathetic. She had cried—and he’d pitied her.

  She swallowed several times like she might get sick. You cried on him. Her head dropped into her hands. He didn’t even look back.

  Of course, he wouldn’t. Jane had let the desert bake her brain cells away. Why would Chance have fallen for her when she was at her weakest—and smelliest? This wasn’t a fa-la-la, rainbows-everywhere movie where the macho hero runs off with the woman who had stolen his heart. What on God’s green earth had she been thinking?

  Jane dropped onto an uncomfortable plastic chair and focused on what would come after her flight. Comfort. A warm bed. A hot shower. Those should make her swoon. She couldn’t wait to pamper herself. Room service was definitely in order. Most of all, Jane couldn’t wait to see Teddy.

  “Ma’am?”

  Jane turned toward a man wearing desert camouflage. “It’s time?”

  He nodded and held the door open. Jane stood and her arms felt empty. No purse. No phone. No one to lean on.

  She followed the man outside and was introduced to the pilot of her airplane. They traded a brief conversation as she studied his face, searching for any hints that he might be like her last pilot. Nothing seemed out of place as the pilot took painstaking care to make sure she was nicely settled into the cramped, somewhat antiquated plane.

  “Thanks.” Jane shifted uncomfortably as he continued to fuss over her comfort. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’m not a Thane. Just one of their staffers.”

  The pilot paused, crooking his head. “I’m sorry?”

  “You don’t have to waste your time on me. I’m just Jane. Not a billionaire.”

  He straightened. “Just Jane,” he repeated and then reached for her hand and squeezed. He spoke Arabic, and then with a grandfatherly expression, translated, “There will always be people who do not see your worth. Don’t let one of them be you.”

  Her lips parted as the pilot let go of her hand. She wanted to explain that he’d misunderstood her intent. Jane knew her worth!

  The pilot situated himself in the cockpit and spoke into his headset. The propellers revolved and drowned the conversation away, leaving her with the weight of his words and the question: did she know her worth?

  Jane was a realist. She didn’t have low self-esteem.

  Perhaps she had a few insecurities. But who didn’t? Especially when her surroundings were glittery photoshopped perfection.

  “One hour,” the pilot announced. “To Abu Dhabi.”

  “Thanks.” She closed her eyes and a strange sadness clogged her throat. Soon as the regular routine of her life came back, she would forget about her dashing white knight and carry on like she’d always done. The last thing she needed was to pine on over a man who lived half a world away, who would jump into danger on his next job, maybe saving another woman who’d fall in love with him. She’d be a distant thought…

  The trip went by quicker than she expected. They began their descent almost immediately, and Jane watched as the barren landscape changed to an extravagant city of ocean-side skyscrapers.

  The plane lined up for a runway and smoothly touched down. She stared out the window as the pilot taxied and then the small private plane stopped.

  The outer door of the airplane was unlocked by the ground crew as Jane thanked her pilot. The plane door unfolded. Jane unfastened her seatbelt and stretched as the captain disembarked.

  “I left before saying everything I needed to.”

  Jane jerked the opened hatch. “Chance?” She blinked twice as if that might clear her vision. “What are you doing here?”

  “Like I said. I didn’t leave our conversation the way I wanted to.” He held out his hand. “You got it?”

  “Um—” She broke from staring at Chance but didn’t take his hand. “Yeah.”

  He led the way down the clamshell staircase like they weren’t skinny, narrow, and tedious. This time when Chance offered his hand, she took it. “This thing’s easier to get into.”

  Her feet touched the tarmac. Their fingers lingered for half a heartbeat—or not. She didn’t know, hating how she immediately reverted to her quest for secret meanings in benign gestures. Then again, he was standing in front of her. “Thanks.”

  “The guys would never let me live it down if we survived Syria, but I let you break your neck falling out of the airplane.” He tilted his head toward the exit. “You ready for the big city?”

  They crossed the smooth, clean tarmac. The exterior of the airport gleamed. Even the vibrant sky seemed well-appointed with the cotton ball clouds.

  Chance escorted her into an unmarked door and into the cool, lightly perfumed airport. Wealth poured from the rafters. Designer-clad travelers walked through the grandiose terminal. Jane lived and worked in the Thanes’ extravagant world, but this airport was still a sight to be seen.

  Then she noticed how others stared at her. Her cheeks flushed. She could only imagine what they thought of the sun-blistered woman who wore hospital scrubs and her dirty shoes. She tugged on his elbow and whispered his name.

  When Jane had his attention, she pointed out, “People are looking at us.”

  He didn’t bother to check. “You should wave.”

  “What? Why?” She crossed her arms over her chest as though she could curl into herself and hide.

  “A pretty lady looking like she escaped hell?” He looked her up and down. “They probably think you’re from one of those reality shows. Amazing Race. Survivor. Something like that.”

  She chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Right.”

  Chance stepped in front of Jane and held his arm out. “Stay back.”

  What in the world—

  “No pictures.” He blocked the invisible paparazzi.

  A blush rocketed from her forehead to her toes. “Oh my God. Chance, would you stop?”

  “No autographs.” Chance placed a protective hand around her back, shielding her from absolutely no one, and then ducked her through a door. His laughter bubbled as the door clicked shut.

  Jane couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re insane. Do yo
u know that?”

  He shrugged without disagreeing and led her through a maze of private halls.

  “Do you know where we are?” Jane asked.

  “More or less.”

  She groaned. “If I end up in Abu Dhabi police lock-up because—”

  He turned, stopping Jane short. “Thought you trusted me?”

  Well, hell. Here they were, too close for her brain to function properly. “I do.”

  He swept an arm behind her back and led her to another door and out into the sunshine again. Jane blinked and shielded her gaze. A black Mercedes sedan waited curbside. A chauffeur greeted them by name.

  She slid into the backseat and muttered, “Guess you do know what you’re doing.”

  Chance laughed as the driver shut the door. “Sometimes I just have to see what happens next.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a hotel. Its gleaming windows reached into the cloudless sky. Jane didn’t want to leave the close confines of the Mercedes’ backseat, but for both of their sake, she needed to shower. Her only shower since Syria had been at the hospital where she’d had just enough time to scrape off the first layer of dirt, sand, and sweat.

  Bright light spilled into the sedan as Chance opened the door before the hotel bellboy or chauffeur had the opportunity.

  She grabbed his forearm. He was half out of the car with one foot planted on the driveway. This was one of her most awkward moves yet. Hurray for consistency.

  He raised his eyebrows then ducked back into the car. “What’s up?”

  Well, hell. She should’ve thought this through. Variations of ‘Me Jane. You hot.’ filled her thoughts as a flock of twitchy butterflies flipped in her stomach. She had no idea what she wanted to say and still held an iron grip on his forearm. Her fingers held his arm so tightly that Jane had to will herself to let him go.

  Concern darted across his face, and she couldn’t blame him. This was one those situations they likely warned white knight heroes to look out for in potential stalkers.